


The Threadbare Trope

by Just_ask_the_Librarian



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: AU after THE kis, F/M, Family Fluff, Fix It Fic, Happy Ending, Marriage of Convenience, fandom tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-04-28 17:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_ask_the_Librarian/pseuds/Just_ask_the_Librarian
Summary: [The word trope is often used for describing commonly recurring literary and rhetorical devices, motives of clichés in creative works. This is the 'marriage of convenience' trope.]Olivia Caliban is determined to adopt the Baudelaire siblings. But in order to do so, she must be married. Jacques offers, even though he has been acting standoffish towards her ever since their reunion at the carnival.





	1. Chapter 1

As Charles Dickens would have put it: Count Olaf was dead to begin with. There is no doubt whatsoever about that. The man was as dead as a door-nail.

[Since the mid nineteenth century there has been some debate about the amount of liveliness usually displayed by door-nails in general, but in the context of this story ‘as dead a doornail’ simply means that both the doornail and Count Olaf are very much, unmistakably dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.]

Count Olaf was dead, which meant that the trials and tribulations of both the Baudelaire orphans and the VFD organization concerning the atrocious arsonist had finally come to and end.

However, seated in the shining, pristine office of Mulctuary Money Management, Jacques Snicket felt oddly morose about the entire current situation.

Being a volunteer had never been an easy or effortless road to take, but now that the story was effectively coming to an end, he felt that he didn’t quite want it to be over. It was true that over the years he had lost many fine people he had come to consider as friends and partners, but now that he was about to turn over a new page, he was acutely aware that his involvement in the VFD had also been incredibly rewarding.  
The welfare of both the Baudelaire children and the Quagmire triplets that had for so long been his greatest responsibility could be considered a mission well accomplished and he was acutely aware that he would never had been able to succeed in it if it hadn’t been for the aid provided by the woman sitting next to him, currently wearing an anxious frown.

Olivia Caliban was perched at the end of her seat, her hands clenched tightly around the purse she held in her lap.

“What will happen to the Baudelaire children now, Mr Poe?” she asked, her voice quivering with concern.

And there it was. The question that made him feel as if someone was pouring boiling hot, liquid lead into his stomach were it solidified into a great weight before sinking to the bottom of his feet.  
The Baudelaire children were safe and about to be shipped off to their next and most likely permanent guardians and would no longer be the concern of either of them. A mutual desire to protect the children, both the Baudelaires and the Quagmires had brought him and Olivia together originally, but now that they were all safe an sound he realized he didn’t have the foggiest idea what the future held in store for him.

For years on end all his efforts and pursuits had been so solely concentrated on capturing Olaf and his cohorts that it was a most alien concept to live in a world where he no longer had to worry about that.  
No doubt the VFD would very soon assign him to other missions, implore him to apply his talents to the extinguishment of other fires, both literally and figuratively, but it still wouldn’t be quite the same.

And as for Olivia, she would either return to her beloved library and her Dewey Decimal System, or make her own way in the organization now that she was, for all intents and purposes, a fully trained recruit.  
And if he didn’t have the first clue what she was about to decide he had no-one to blame for that but himself.

As for the future of the Baudelaires however, he was quite curious about that himself.

Before the impeccably dressed bank employee could open his mouth to answer that question however, he was interrupted by a high-pierced, spousal squeal.

“It seems that the tragic tale of the Baudelaire orphans will come to a happy conclusion at last,” Eleonora Poe gushed excitedly. “Wait until the readers of ‘The Daily Punctilio’ hear about _this!”_

Stating that the newspaper had followed the story of the Baudelaire children from the start, the chief editor had claimed it to be her right to be present in the meeting in which the future of Klaus, Violet and Sunny would finally be determined.

Athur Poe cleared his throat thoroughly and vociferously before swallowing with great difficulty around what could only be a very large, very tenacious amount of phlegm, the sound of it deafening in the sparse room.  
“Ah yes,” he replied at last. “I am happy to say that I have some very good news on that front.”

“Really?” Olivia choose to direct her radiant smile not at the banker, but at him before leaning back in her chair, her composure relaxing.

Despite his own feelings he returned her smile with a small one of his own, fighting to keep the sadness out of his expression. Olivia was happy. The Baudelaire children would finally be happy.  
Really, in the end that was all that mattered.

“We at Mulctuary Money Management take great pride in providing the best possible care for our clientele…,” Mr. Poe pompously continued, “…and we are pleased to inform you that, after tremendous effort on our side, we have managed to find guardians for all three children.”

Both he and Olivia bolted upright in perfectly synched alarm at those words.

“What do you mean ‘guardians for all three children’? Olivia demanded. “You either found someone willing to take the Baudelaire siblings in, or you didn’t.”

“Well, look here,” Mr. Poe started, clearly affronted by their reactions. “Let me begin by stressing how difficult it is to find a guardian willing to take in three orphaned children. Especially, I might add, children who have such a horrible track record as the Baudelaire orphans when it comes to the demise of their previous appointed guardians.”

“So what do you propose as an alternate solution?” he asked, carefully keeping his voice calm and controlled.

The banker brightened considerably. “I am glad you asked. We have found excellent places for all three of the children.

Sunny, being the youngest and therefore the easiest to place will go to family who has been longing for a child of their for quite some time now. They are looking forward to assimilating her into their family.

Concerning the eldest girl, Violet, not many couples are eager to adopt a girl that will become of age in merely a couple of years, but considering her practical nature and her responsibility she has always displayed in caring for her siblings, we have found her a place with a large family where she can make herself useful by looking after the younger children.

As for the boy, since he has such a self-declared passion for reading we have decided to place him with a scholar. A delightfully eccentric, inconversable man who lives on a remote island due to his agoraphobia. Young Klaus will have a splendid time there.”

At the end of his lengthly explanation, Mr. Poe cleared his throat in a satisfied manner.

“You are seriously contemplating separating three orphaned siblings who have nothing in the world except each other?” Olivia demanded, her voice shrill with indignation. “After everything they have been through together… everything they have suffered? How dare you?  
Of all the heinous, preposterous, atrocious things to do!”

Notwithstanding his own exasperation with the entire scheme, he couldn’t help but admire her eloquent anger and use of four-syllable words to express her scorn.

“I am sorry Miss Caliban, but there simply is nothing else to be done about the matter,” Mr. Poe declared in a condescending tone of voice while Mrs. Poe hummed approvingly.

For a long second the office was absolutely silent and then Oliva spoke, quietly and utterly determined.  
“I want to adopt the Baudelaire children. All three of them.”

And for a moment Jacques could picture it inside his mind as clearly as if he was watching a collection of high resolution photographs.

A spacious, comfortable house with rooms for all the children. A large kitchen where the four of them would have dinner and chat about their days. A cosy living room with a fireplace, cramped with bookcases where they would read in the evenings, cuddled up under quilts and blankets. The Baudelaire children glowing under her heartfelt, compassionate, quirky attention that so matched their own personalities.  
Olivia, happy and content in a home of her own making, finally able to share her affectionate heart with people who loved her unreservedly in return.

It was so beautiful a picture that his heart ached with the need to be a part of it, no matter how doomed such an endeavor would turn out to be. 

It would be a wonderful solution.

Her impassioned words however were met first with stunned silence and then rambunctious laughter, Mr. Poe going as far as to take an enormous, dotted handkerchief from his pocket and wipe his eyes with it.

“Really…” he wheezed, after he had at long last managed to collect himself. “This really is rich. How would you possibly be able to afford that considering the fact that you are currently not even employed?”

“I might not be at the moment,” Olivia answered stubbornly. “But there are books to care for in abundance in this world… I will find a new position and I will be able to provide for the children.”

“But you are not married!” Mrs. Poe cried. “And these children, after everything that they have been through deserve a conventional, traditional home!”

“I quite agree with Mrs. Poe,” the banker added. “Children need a mother and a father, it is only proper. I you are to adopt them, you will need a husband.”

“And a blue-stocking such as yourself can have very little hope of ever finding one,” Mrs. Poe concluded, smugly pulling her trump card.

[A blue stocking can refer to a blue-colored item of footwear, but in this case the phrase blue-stocking means a fashionable term for a woman considered too ugly to find a suitable husband although it is usually applied to woman who are known for being intelligent and well-read and scorned because of it, the assumption being that such a woman would never be able to invoke the romantic interest of a man.]

It could have been the white-hot anger that flared up inside him at Mrs. Poe’s callous words. It could have been Olivia’s hurt, dejected expression. Or it could have been something far less altruistic than that. It could have been the lingering image that remained of the beautiful family he had envisioned earlier. Or because despite past experience, his reason and his determination he was utterly incapable of accepting that his involvement in the story of Baudelaire children and Olivia was over.

Whatever the reason was, when he spoke the words there was not a trace of doubt in them:

“Olivia Caliban, I will marry you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn more about what happened to Jacques, Olivia and the Baudelaires at Caligari Carnival and Oliva reaches a decision.

**Chapter 2**

 

[The word trope is often used for describing commonly recurring literary and rhetorical devices, motives of clichés in creative works.

Especially works of fan fiction often make use of these tropes such as the following one; a couple dealing with copious amounts of unresolved sexual tension is forced, during an unpleasant, uncomfortable and interminably long drive to camp outside during the night because they are unable to find suitable shelter. During that night the frigid temperatures leave them no choice but to share body heat in order to prevent hypothermia.

 

Another example is the fake marriage trope. A couple dealing with copious amounts of unresolved sexual tension is forced to enter into a marriage of convenience and spend far too much time dealing with the fallout of all the miscommunication.]

 

* * *

When Olivia Caliban stepped out of Mulctuary Money Management she was flushed, reeling and engaged to be married. 

The events of the past half hour had been so surprising that she barely knew how to make her way from the bank to the V.F.D. City Station where she was currently residing. The narrow and completely unsightly building stood squashed between the office of a large debt collector’s agency and the practice of a dental hygienist. In their hurry to pass both establishments as quickly as possible, passers-by usually tended to not even notice the place.

Olivia had been staying here ever since the demise of Count Olaf, the station being a place for V.F.D. volunteers to recuperate and wait for their next orders when they were in between commissions. She had been assigned a small, but comfortable and sunny room on the seventh floor and as she made her way up the stairs, her heart still beating furiously, she longed for the peace and quiet of her room to think over the extraordinary events of the morning. 

Once inside her room she kicked off her heels and flopped down on the single bed. Reaching out she put her glasses on the nightstand and pulled a copy of ‘ _Emily Dickinson’s Complete_ ’ Poems out from underneath her pillow to hug it tightly to her chest.  
Books, even if she didn’t have the focus of mind to actually read them, had after all always been a source of great comfort to her.

Jacques Snicket had proposed to her.

And it had been the most un-romantic, anti-climactic moment of her life.

For a brief, mad second after he had so solemnly promised her matrimony she had dared to hope that all her unrequited feelings, hopes and dreams of the past weeks hadn’t been quite so unrequited after all. But a brief conversation outside Mr. Poe’s office had all but smashed those hopes to dust.

He had made it undeniably clear that the only reason he had proposed marriage to her was the fact that he still considered himself duty bound to ensure that the Baudelaire siblings were not only safe from the clutches of Count Olaf, but also happy and together. And in order to fulfill that duty he was prepared to take every necessary step, even if that included marrying her.

And that he considered this marriage to be an unfortunate necessity had been painfully and obviously clear from the tense line of his shoulders and the grim look of determined resignation on his face.

Rolling over to her side, Olivia curled up into a tight ball as she clutched her volume of Dickinson closer, wondering how it had all gone so wrong.

 

* * *

 

She could still recall her first meeting with Jacques Snicket with crystal clarity. He had almost hit her with his taxi, as she found out later not entirely by accident, but he had been most sincerely sorry for frightening her. The look in his eyes, that of an adorable puppy, had been all it took to trust him instantly.

Within a couple of days she’s been in head over heels with the V.F.D. and with he man who was swiftly learning her the ropes, both literally and figuratively. He was utterly noble and dependable. As steady and unflappable as a tank, completely secure in his convictions. But at the same time he was kind and funny and she had loved every second of their conversations, varying from the history of the V.F.D., to literature and to their mutual love for cheese fondue. 

During those first days he had flirted shamelessly with her and every time an innuendo has slipped past his lips, accompanied by a quirk of his eyebrow or a tug at the corner of his mouth, her stomach had fluttered and her skin had tingled. He was adorable and sexy and responding in kind had been as easy as breathing.

She had always had a way with words, had always managed to have a witty retort present, but flirting like this had been rather uncharted territory for her.

And yet it had all been so effortlessly. She had felt like she could completely be herself around him and that feeling had been addictively liberating.

She remembered the exact moment she had realized she was in love with him. They’d been preparing themselves to climb the walls of 667 Dark Avenue and she had questioned him about the safety rope and where it attached to.

“Me,” he had told her calmly, pulling her close, but for a second she could have sworn she saw a heat smoldering in his dark eyes, belying the steady tone of his voice.

He excited her like no man ever had, but at the same time she felt completely secure in his presence. Since meeting him her life had never been so disorganized, uncertain and dangerous and yet she had never been happier.

 

* * *

Things had taken a turn for the worse in that horrible village. After Olaf and Esmé had turned the tables on them and put the two of them behind bars, she’d been forced to make a deal with the latter to ensure that Jacques wasn’t burned at the stake for the crimes Olaf had committed. They’d been forced to separate then, she in pursuit of Madame Lulu and him staying behind to take care of the children. Their adieu had been sweet and full of promise and for days she’d felt the soft press of his lips agains hers as he promised her that their story wasn’t over yet. 

It was at the carnival that she had been informed of his death, her whole world coming crashing around her as she’d heard the news. For days she’d wandered about in a fog of shock, unable to believe that this was it, that their story had ended so abruptly even before it had truly began.

Then Olaf and his troupe had arrived with the Baudelaires hidden in the trunk of his car and just like that her world had come back into focus again. Jacques would have wanted her to be strong and if he could no longer do it, it was her duty to accomplish the mission he had given his life for.

She had started to listen to his instruction tapes where he talked more in depth about the workings of the V.F.D. and everything it stood for. Listening to his voice had been both a comfort and a torment. Hearing him explain all about the V.F.D. had made her feel closer to him than ever before and at the same time it had made her painfully aware of how many questions she had that she would never get to ask him.

And then, on the morning of Olaf’s show, mere minutes before she was supposed to appear in the tent, he had suddenly appeared in the cab, together with the previous Madame Lulu, who she later learned was his twin sister, Kit Snicket and her heart had threatened to burst out of her chest under the stormy force of feelings that had washed over her at seeing his face again.

He definitely looked worse for wear, she had noticed instantly. His eyes had been bloodshot and underlined with black circles and there had been something off in the way he’d been carrying himself. He moved with he greatest difficulty, trying keep his torso as still as possible as if every movement was causing him excruciating pain.

But he had been real and alive and she’d ran towards him, fully intending to throw his arms around him and never let go. Before she’d gotten close to him however, she’d been held back by his sister.

“Don’t touch him,” she had warned her. “He’s barely keeping it together as it is. Where are the Baudelaires?”

“Inside the tent,” she’d explained hurriedly, never taking her eyes off him. “Olaf has arranged for a pit with hungry lions. He is going to pick one of the freaks to be thrown in the pit and if he doesn’t choose Klaus and Violet I’m going to eat my copy of ‘ _A Feast For Crows_ ’.

“Then we don’t have a moment to lose,” Kit had decided quickly. “Jacques, for heaven’s sake, go and sit in the cab before you aggravate your injuries any further. I’ll walk you back and gather the supplies.”

“I will not be useless,” he’d growled in response, his voice low with vehemence and it was such a difference from the soft-spoken, gallant man she’d come to know that she’d startled in surprise. 

‘Fine, suit yourself,” Kit had snapped back. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Alone at last she had fitted her eyes over him anxiously, torn between being elated that he was standing in front of her alive and well and being out of her mind with worry.

“What happened to you?” she asked in an urgent whisper. “They told me you were dead!”

He flinched at the words, his face contorting in pain afterwards. “It was a a near miss,” he admitted, his voice hoarse.

There was no time to ask for more details, already she could hear Kit’s footsteps, indicating her return, so instead she smiled at him, hoping to convey all off her happiness and relief in her look. “I am _very_ glad to see you, Jacques Snicket.”

For a long moment he stared at her wide-eyed and she could have sworn he wasn’t even breathing. Then he gave her curt nod, his gaze shifting as if someone had rolled down the blind and extinguished the lights behind them.

That had been the first time a tendril of worry had started to worm its way into her mind, but there hadn’t been time to think about it any further.

Kit returned and handed her a roll of thin but very sturdy looking robe. “Do you think you can hide this in the folds of your dress?” she’d asked hurriedly.

It took some rearranging, but she did managed the feat, while Kit was loading her small, silvery handgun with bullets before tucking it safely into the pocket of the trousers she was wearing.

“All right,” she said, her face tight with a single-minded determination that made her look startlingly like Jacques. “Show time.”

Hurrying back into the tent she’d taken her place next to a terrified Klaus and Violet, while Sunny sat on the filthy ground, growling menacingly at Olaf.

From there on it all went exactly according to expectation. Olaf did select Klaus and Violet to walkthe plank and at first attempted to push them into the pit himself. Standing besides the other carny’s her heart had shattered at the sight of utter terror on all three of the siblings faces, Klaus en Violet clinging closely together and Sunny rocking back and forward as Olaf ascended the three steps leading towards the plank.

Then she had caught Kit’s eye.The woman was hiding in the shadows, her gun pointed steadily at Olaf. Interpreting the small nod of her head as a sign that she needed to get to the other side of the pit, closer to Klaus and Sunny, she had taken advantage of the distraction of the crowd by slipping away, uncovering the robe from her skirt.

The next fifteen seconds had felt like years as she watched the events in front of her unfold in slow-motion.

As Olaf made it to the top of the stairs the lions noticed him and started to howl in hunger. Olaf, recoiling in fear started to turn back and at that precise moment Kit had fired her gun, hitting Olaf square in the chest, causing him to fall forward into the pit.

At the exact same moment, as if her mind and body had already resolved on an action before she was even aware of it, she had knotted the end of the rope into a large loop and swung it above her head.  
Olaf’s movements had caused the plank to start to wobble dangerously and just as she had managed to lasso the robe around Klaus and Violet the plank began to tilt. With all of her strength she pulled, throwing her own weight backwards to give the children those few inches extra that they would need to survive.  
Landing on her back with a painful thud, she watched them both soar through the air before landing on top of her.

From the corner of her eye she watched Jacques swoop into the tent and bending down to pick up Sunny as she, Klaus and Violet managed to scramble to their feet.

Amidst the mayhem and uproar that broke out in the tent she could hear Kit’s scream above all the noise. “To the cab! Run!!”

With Klaus and Violet still bonded awkwardly together they weren’t moving as quickly as she would have liked. Behind her she could hear Jacques heavy breathing and uncharacteristically faltering footsteps. Throwing a glance behind her, she’d noticed that his face was contorted in agony, but that he was still clutching Sunny tightly against him, even as he was gritting his teeth.

“Give me the baby,” she’d shouted, taking Sunny from his arms without even waiting for a reply. The little girl had transferred easily, wrapping her arms around her neck to hold on more tightly.

The distance to the taxi, parked behind Madame Lulu’s tent seemed insurmountable and behind her she could hear the high-pitched screams of Esmé Squalor, urging the mob on.

She could have wept in relief as they finally reached the cab and wasted no time in throwing the door to the backseat open. Kit already had the engine running, while Jacques was climbing into the passenger seat with noticeably difficulty. All but shoving Klaus and Violet into the car, she followed swiftly, still clutching Sunny in her arms.

She hadn’t even closed the door yet properly when Kit was already flooring it, the tires of the cab screeching into the night.

Kit skillfully maneuvered the car around the already burning tents and running, screaming people. Turning into the freeway she continued to drive at a pace five times above the maximum speed limit for another ten minutes before finally slowing down.

As long as the car had been speeding, the adrenaline had been rushing through her veins, but now that roaring engine had quieted down she’d been able to take a look at the children.

“Are you all right, Baudelaires?” she’d asked, her voice soft with concern.

“You saved us…” Klaus had muttered, an awe-struck expression on his face, while Violet nodded tearfully.

“That was seriously impressive,” Kit added and she’d caught her eyes in the rearview mirror. Blushing, Olivia had returned attention back to the children. “But are you all right?” she’d asked again.

Violet’s lower lip was still wobbling dangerously, but her smile was luminous. “We are now.”

“Argha boo!” Sunny pitched in enthusiastically, breaking the tension and she’d laughed breathlessly.

“Where are we going?” Klaus asked.

“We’re driving back into the city,” Kit had announced her voice clipped with worry. “My brother needs a to see a doctor.”

Immediately worry clawed at Olivia’s chest. Leaning over the front seat of the car she tried to inspect Jacques’ slumped form in the sparse light of the street lights. He was sagged against the seat, his head lolled to the side, eyes closed.

“How can he be alive?” Violet asked. “We saw him being carried away at the village… they put a sheet over him… they said he was dead.”

“He faked his own dead,” Kit answered grimly. “It’s a particular proficiency of the Snickets and Jacques is masterful at it. Although in this case, there was precious little left to fake.”

“What happened to him,” Olivia asked, her voice shaking.

“Olaf tried to murder him with a crow bar,” Kit replied bluntly as the four in the backseat gasped in horror. “He took a few severe blows to the chest. It very nearly killed him for real.”

“Oh Jacques…” she had whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Carefully she’d reached out to stroke his hear, but he’d let out a tormented grunt and she had hastily pulled her hand back.

“I patched him up as best as I could,” Kit continued. “But he is in bad shape. He needs medical care.”

Leaning closer, her throat constricted with pain because of his suffering, Olivia had placed her hands on his shoulders to pull him back, gently trying to force him into a more upright position that would make it easier for him to breath.

He groaned in pain at her actions, even though he remained in his semi-conscious state. To her absolute horror she noticed the dark spots that were staining his shirt.

“He’s bleeding.”

“Damn him, he must have busted all of his stitches,” Kit swore. “Hold on tight everyone, I’m going to floor it again.”

 

* * *

Eventually they had managed to reach the city and the V.F.D. station. Jacques had been brought in immediately and taken to a part of the house where they had medical facilities. 

She had taken the Baudelaires to their room and seen to it that they were given everything they needed.

From there on the days had passed in a vexing and exhausting pattern of waiting for news and worrying about what was to come.  
Waiting for news about Jacques’ condition who, according to Kit’s report was suffering from a heavy concussion, a plethora of cuts, wounds and bruises on his chest, six broken ribs and a punctured lung.

Waiting for news about Olaf’s troupe who had managed to escape the carnival and were now being hunted down by a small army of V.F.D. volunteers.

Waiting for news about the Quagmires, who were still somewhere up in the air.  
Waiting for news about the future of the Baudelaires, now that they had been cleared from all accusations of murder, but were still in need of a permanent home.

And whenever there was news to be heard, her worry increased proportionally. Jacques was slowly on the mend, but was kept in the infirmary and refused to see anyone except for his sister, something that puzzled Olivia exceedingly.

And wherever Esmé and the henchmen were hiding, they were hiding themselves well, because trail nor trace was being found of them.

It had been a full three weeks after they had arrived at the City station that Olivia finally found an opportunity to talk to Jacques again. He had been released from the infirmary and the moment he’d come down in the main hall of the building, she had been waiting for him.

But for some reason the amiable man she had come to know in the days they’d been working together was gone.

He had replied curtly to her questions, his entire posture formal and standoffish. He’d rebuked her every attempt at familiarity and proven to be impassive at her worried inquiries and her gentle teasing.  
His eyes, that she remembered being so warm and full of humor were now cold and expressionless and he never once smiled at her.

At first she had chalked it up to the trauma of ordeal he’d went through. After being almost beaten to death by a vicious maniac, it was no wonder the man was shell-shocked. And she vowed to be as supportive and understanding of him as she possibly could.

But in the days that followed, she made the painful and startling discovery that Jacques’s altered behavior only applied to her.

It seemed that he was trying to avoid her as much as possible, never lingering in the room where she was staying or quickly getting up and leaving the ones she’d entered. Whenever she did try to get him to talk to her, his answers were brisk and he always made up an excuse to get away from her as far as possible.

But upon meeting the Baudelaires again he was all easy smiles and genuine warmth. The four of them clicked instantly and he spend many hours patiently answering all the questions that had been plaguing the children for months.  
He was the one who gently broke the news to the children that neither of their parents had, after all, survived the fire that had ruined their home, but that the survivor that they’d heard mentioned was in fact Quigley Quagmire, his whole countenance being nothing but empathy and understanding.

With Kit he kept up a steady stream of banter. The two of them bickered endlessly, but there was always a strong undertone of affection in their conversation and he seemed completely at ease and relaxed around her.

And when he even briefly flirted with Jacqueline when she came to the City Station for a debriefing she was forced to admit the devastating truth to herself: whatever the reason for his suddenly cold behavior towards her, it was probably directly related to something she had said or done.

She picked her brain trying to analyse the reason. At first she had assumed that perhaps he was put out with her for making that deal with Esmé Squalor. But on closer reflection, that just didn’t add up. He had known about that deal when they had parted at the village and it hadn’t stopped him from kissing her then.

Perhaps he had heard something about her performance as Madame Lulu that he disapproved off. But again, that also didn’t make sense. Even if she honestly examined all of her actions and choices at the carnival, nothing came to mind that she was particularly regretful of, although she still cringed at the memory of having had to flirt with Count Olaf. And besides, even if she had been deficit in her duties as a volunteer, he would simply have told her so.

In the end only one conclusion appeared to have solid arguments sustaining it: he had simply grown tired of her.  
It was the story of her life really. From when she was a little girl living with her various guardians to when she’d gone to boarding school and later college to study library science, most people and later boys had been briefly attracted to her sassy answers and the fact that she was quick to strike up a conversation. But inevitably they had all grown bored with her. Her guardians, tired of her endless question told her that nobody liked a know-it-all. In school she was generally well-liked by her teachers, but everybody else simply found her odd and as she’d grown older she’d come to realize that precious few people in the world caught on to her literary references and her sense of humor.

The men she’d met had never been interested in her brain and she didn’t flatter herself to think that she had much else to bring to the table to hold their fancy. She was told on various occasions that she could be considered pretty if she just lost the glasses and the bun and the sensible clothing, but she’d never quite been interested enough in them to comply with these requests. And so she had found her comfort in books and kept her devotion for the literary heroes who would never snub her like that. She was sure that Mr. Darcy would do so and neither would Benedick.

The first time Jacques had laughed out loud because of something she’d muttered wryly under her breath, she had stared at him in complete shock for a full moment before her stomach decided to dissolve in a mushy mess of fluttering butterflies. He’d been the first person to get her sense of humor and she’d been lost.

But in the end he had been just as quick to lose interest in her as the others had and really, she shouldn’t be surprised. He probably regretted their kiss and their flirting deeply now and was keeping himself aloof because he wanted to signal to her that she shouldn’t have any expectations.

And she didn’t. Not after she had resigned herself to what apparently was to be their new normal.

But it was hard to swallow down the bile that tasted bitterly of disappointment. She had believed him to be different. She really had. 

 

* * *

Rolling over to her back, Olivia stared at the ceiling without seeing anything. Jacques had proposed marriage to her in order to keep the Baudelaires together. And after everything the poor dears had been through they deserved a happy, stable home. 

Jacques and the children were equally fond of each other and he _was_ a good man. A noble man with good principles and a dependable character. He might not love her, but he would always have her back, he would always be there whenever she or the children needed him.

And she may have only known the Baudelaire children for a short time, but already she ached with the need to give them security and love. The entire V.F.D. might be able to comprehend how much the three siblings had lost, but she knew only she herself could truly understand how they must have felt during the past months.

In her mind’s eye she could picture the bespectacled girl with the pigtails, hauled from one guardian to the next until she’d been shipped off to school. Which might have been a fine educational institute, but where no one had ever come to tuck her in at night, or made her a pancake breakfast on her birthday.

That little girl would have given anything for a family to take her in and keep her.

Right now she was in the position to give the Baudelaire siblings that wonderful home that had once been denied to that little girl. If only she could push aside her silly infatuation and focus on the job at hand.

Pulling herself up in a sitting postion, Olivia Caliban determinedly wiped her face and put her glasses back on.

She was going to marry Jacques Snicket and adopt the Baudelaire siblings. And they would be happy together, or she wasn’t a librarian.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I head canon that Olivia is an orphan herself. When Coach Genghis orders all the orphans in the house to stand, Olivia rises as well.   
> It would explain perfectly why she is so invested in helping the Baudelaires and the Quagmires. 
> 
> Also, I invented the V.F.D. City Station because I needed a V.F.D. location that wasn't all the way up in Mortmain Mountains.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A completely baffled Kit takes her brother out for drinks, hoping to get some answers.

 

Jacques usually wasn’t the Snicket sibling who caused the drama. As opposed to Kit herself, who usually dived head-first into the next wild adventure without properly considering the consequences. To her Jacques had always been the dependable one, ready to clean up after her messes, and she had long since given up counting the times he had to bail her out of jail or other pickles.  
And then there was Lemony. Morose, suffering from afflictions of the heart and forever analyzing every little detail to death.  
Jacques, being the responsible older brother that he was, always listened patiently to him and had talked him of many a ledge. Mostly figuratively.

Jacques himself was calm, steady and _always_ kept it together. For almost thirty years he’d been one of V.F.D.’s most trustworthy volunteers. When a job needed to get done, Jacques was the one who got it done and he always did it with a friendly smile and a dry joke.

He was a life-long bachelor and seemed perfectly content with his solitary lifestyle. He always had a smile and a bit of flirting ready for whatever pretty girl crossed his path, but it had never been anything more than that.

He was married to his job and he seemed satisfied with that. And Kit usually believed him, but sometimes, in one of her more serious and philosophical moods and often under influence of a good gin and tonic she wondered if her twin really was has happy as he appeared.

Because she dared to wagger that she knew Jacques Snicket better than anyone in the world and aside from being a volunteer, he was first and foremost a family man.

Give the man a whisky and he could ramble on endlessly about their perfect childhood, a fond smile lightening his face as he did.  
The death of their parents due to arson, while the Snicket siblings had been adolescents and the ruin of their childhood home had hit all of them hard.  
Lemony had thrown himself into a hopeless love-triangle involving Bertrand and Beatrice and she herself had left her job behind and began to travel the world, desperate to be anywhere but at the home that no longer existed.  
Jacques hadn’t gone off the rails in an obvious way. Quite the contrary, his determination and faith in the principles of the VFD had only intensified, as had his involvement.

But sometimes Kit wondered if he hadn’t been hurt the most by the way their family had scattered after their parents demise.  
She knew she and Lemony both had a streak of selfishness about them. They didn’t intend to hurt people, but both could become rather singleminded in their pursuits.

Jacques was different. He was the glue that held the Snicket siblings together and the estrangement that had been growing in recent years between Lemony and himself had weighted on him a great deal.

Kit knew she had serious fear of commitment issues. She loved her independent lifestyle and even if she had already met the woman she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, getting around to actually _do_ that was a step she was still shying away from.

And as far as Lemony was concerned, sometimes she wondered if the whole reason he’d goten tangled up in that hopeless infatuation with Beatrice was because it was just that: without any chance of ever succeeding.

If any of them were to settle down and start a family it would undoubtably be Jacques.

So when she’d gotten the invitation to the wedding of her brother to Olivia Caliban she’d been ecstatic.

After first meeting the former librarian at the Caligari Carnival and later on many occasions at the V.F.D. City Station she’d come to appreciate the woman a great deal.

Olivia was sweet and gentle in ways that Kit would never be, but there was no denying that the woman possessed spunk. From her debriefings she had learned just how vigorously she had taken up the role of Madame Lulu and simply ran with it, completely pulling the wool over Olaf’s eyes, and Kit had been duly impressed.

And then there was the neat display of lassoing skills she had exhibited while saving the eldest Baudelaires.

Although her own awe had been nothing compared to the look of absolute pride and admiration that had bloomed on her brother’s face as he’d walked into the tent at the same time Olivia had saved Klaus and Violet from tumbling down into the pit.  
Despite his pain and weakened condition he’d been absolutely beaming and if she’d had any doubts about the depths of his feelings, that look assuaged them.

At the V.F.D. City Station she had been surprised by Jacques’ distant behavior towards her, but since he’d been in a bad place to begin with, she’d assumed that given time, he would come around again.

Jacques didn’t deal well with feeling useless and out of commission and Olaf and his crow bar had seen to it that he was unable to volunteer for two months at least.

When she’d heard of their intended marriage she had thought they had made up, even though the hurried wedding had appeared to be a bit off.

The ceremony itself had been a brief, formal affair at City Hall. Neither one of them were particularly dressed for the occasion and there had only been two other people present aside from the happy couple. She was there as a witness for Jacques and Jacqueline for Olivia and that had been it. She had expected a party or at least a much bigger gathering. 

But what had really thrown her off had been both of their expressions.

She’d expected Jacques to be besides himself with joy, but instead he’d looked as if was standing at the gallows instead of his wedding and Olivia’s solemn, tense expression had been equally puzzling.

This was the woman who had pestered her with questions about Jacques' condition every five minutes of every day when he’d been in the infirmary. If Kit was sure that her brother was in love with Oliva, she was equally sure that Olivia loved him right back.

So why the long faces?

The only marginally normal moment during the ceremony had been when the magistrate had told Jacques that: “he could kiss the bride.”  
Her brother, who up until that moment had insisted on looking stoically ahead, had suddenly turned around and kissed his bride swiftly on the lips.

When in return said bride had stared at him wide-eyed, her mouth agape in shock, Kit had to resist the urge to scream.

What the hell was going on here? Her brother was getting married to a woman who was actually a great match for him and the entire thing was the biggest let-down of the century.

At least Jacquelyn had been there. Which had been nice.

After the wedding she’d only had the chance to talk briefly to the newlyweds, having barely enough time to congratulate them. But it was then that she learned that Jacques planned to move them into the Snicket Townhouse, the home of their deceased grandparents and that they were due for a court hearing later that afternoon in order to regain full custody of the Baudelaire siblings.

That had been the point where Kit had started to suspect something. The adoption of the Baudelaires seemed to be their sole focus and she wouldn’t put it past Jacques to get actually, legally get married just to accomplish a mission.

And that even might have made sense if the both of them hadn’t been completely head over heels for each other.

Something fishy was going on and Kit was determined to get to the bottom of it.

 

* * *

In order to get Jacques alone so she could talk to him, she invited him to join her for drinks at Café Teetotaler about a week after the wedding.

By that time Jacques and Oliva had been granted guardianship over the Baudelaire children and all five of them had settled into the victorian townhouse that had formerly belonged to Charles and Ivy Snicket.

His ready acceptance to her invitation was another red flag. In a normal world she was sure she wouldn’t have been able to pry him away from his new bride with a crow bar. 

‘Don’t mention the crow bar,’ she told herself as she sat at the bar, waiting for Jacques to appear.  
Café Teetolar was an establishment Lemony had once introduced her to. He had declared it to be one of his favorites and the place was certainly gloomy and mopish enough to suit him.

Her objective of the evening was to get him to talk about whatever the hell it was that was going on between him and Olivia and to that end she ordered him a large whisky on the rocks and listened to him jabber on for forty-five minute about the way they were improving the house to accommodate three children and how well they were settling in.

When at long last he was starting to look a little bleary-eyed, she grabbed her chance. A bit of humor usually worked well with Jacques and the opportunity to tease him was too good to pass up anyway.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen…” she said lightly, grinning at him over the rim of her gin and tonic. (More tonic than gin and she was still on her first glass. She had to keep her wits about her)

He blinked at her, his face utterly non-plussed.

“I seem to recall that you used to have very strong opinions on fraternizing with members of the organization,” Kit answered cheekily.

According to Jacques the cause of the schism that had had such devastating effects on the efficiency of the V.F.D. was directly traceable to the numerous romantic entanglements that had been brewing between V.F.D. volunteers at the time. After the schism he had actively advocated for a ban on interpersonal relations within the organization. Most V.F.D. volunteers agreed with his stance in theory, but in reality Kit knew - mostly from a lot of personal experience-that fraternization was still happening enthusiastically and frequently.

“I still believe that,” Jacques replied, drowning his whisky. "Me marrying Olivia Caliban doesn’t change that. It is simply the way in which we are going to ensure that the Baudelaires remain safe and together.

“That’s very noble of you both,” Kit nodded solemnly. “And it doesn’t change the fact that you are both mad for each other.”

On her left Jacques choked on his next sip. “I am not in love with Olivia,” he protested once he done coughing. “That’s preposterous!”

“Really?” Kit inquired brightly. “In that case, can _I_ hook up with her?”

Jacques put his glass down on the bar with a loud thud, his expression thunderous. “We _just_ got married.”

Kit shrugged. “For the sake of a mission only. And besides, you’re not interested.” 

He huffed indignantly and from the corner of her eyes she could see a muscle in his jaw working.  
Really, when had it become so easy to get him riled up?

“I would appreciate it if you did not jeopardize that mission,” he said tersely.

She’d met oysters who’ been easier to crack than her brother, but Kit wasn’t about to give up.

“So, is Olivia the new recruit you’ve been talking about non-stop since you got back into the city in April?” Kit asked, deciding to switch tactics.

Jacques swirled around to face her. “Yes, she’s the new recruit and no, I’ve not been talking about here non-stop… what are you going on about?”  
Apart from the muscle, there was now also a vein throbbing on his forehead.

She needed to get him to open up to her, otherwise he was going to give himself a stroke.

“Oh please, in every phone call, every debriefing and every update you’e mentioned her and her impressive list of talents and accomplishments at least a dozen times. At headquarters they started a drinking game… a shot for every time you said ‘the new recruit, Olivia Caliban.’ Within two days they were all completely plastered.”

And then the most amazing thing happened. Her composed, unflappable brother turned beet-redand slumped down on the bar, his face in his hands.

“What the hell happened, Jacques?” Kit asked, uncharacteristically gentle.

“I screwed up, that’s what happened,” Jacques replied dejectedly.

Kit held out his glass to the barman for a refill. “Spill it.”

Jacques smiled softly at the drink in his hands. “I’ve never met anyone like Olivia. She stepped out of that bank, lugging ‘ _The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations’_ with her and I almost hit her with my taxi. I meant to do that a lot more smoothly, but well… I suppose it set a precedent. When I’m with her I become this nonsense-sprouting, double left footed moron.”

Kit whistled softly, torn between amusement and sympathy. “You have it bad!”

“Kid you not, Kit,” he grinned back, calling on to one of their childhood jokes. “It’s the honest truth. Here we are, sitting on the window sill of the 45th floor of 667 Dark Avenue, without trail nor trace of the Quagmires and I go: ‘Maybe we get lucky in the penthouse…’”

Swallowing down her gin and tonic swiftly, Kit hooted with laugher, as he ducked his head in embarrassment. 

Eventually he shook his head. “I’m a mess around her. But she.. she’s fierce… and I keep underestimating just how fierce she is. She’s read absolutely everything… and she believes in the V.F.D. every bit as much as you and I do…

If there was ever a woman I would have wanted to spend my life with, it would have been her.”

Flabbergasted, Kit just stared at him. “What are you talking about? You _just_ married her!”

Jacques shook his head grimly. “That’s for the purpose of the children. Everything else… I’ve screwed up.”

“Jacques, you killed the villain, saved the children and got the girl! What the hell is the problem?”

“ _You_ killed the villain,” he pointed out dryly. “And Olivia rescued the children.”

“Well… you were there too…” Kit protested feebly.

He shot her pointed look over his glass of whisky. “Yes, but as we have already established, only to screw things up.”

He was avoiding the issue, Kit realized. A joke here, a flippant comment here and there and he’d be able to walk way without ever having to show himself. She should know because she tended to employ the exact same tactics.

“Jacques, what are you doing?” she asked dead seriously. “Because from where I am standing, it doesn’t make any sense. If you’d let me hand-pick a woman for you, I couldn’t have come up with someone half as perfect as Olivia is for you. And you’re pushing it all away.”

He sighed deeply and pressed his lips together, nodding slowly.

“All right, full disclosure… at the village they had me and Olivia in jail and I was about to be burned at the stake for the crimes Olaf had committed.  
But Olivia made a deal with Esmé and got us both out, which was a brilliant move on her part, I might add.

We decided to split up, I was going to stay behind to protect the Baudelaires and she was going to look for you, so I gave her my cab…”

“Which was as good as a marriage proposal to begin with,” Kit interjected with a smirk, laughing at his wry expression.

“Just tell me one thing,” she asked, unable to contain her curiosity, “Did you ever let her drive her the cab before that?”

For a moment he continued to glare at her and then he gave and then his expression melted into an embarrassed grin. “On the very same day I met her I handed over the keys.”

“Oh my god!” Kit exclaimed, taken aback by his honesty and the implication of his words.

“Well…” Jacques continued, his face growing somber again. “We said our goodbyes… she was worried about the children… and about me… and she made me promise her we would meet again. And believe me, I intended to keep that promise.

I kissed her… which was an idiotic thing to do considering the circumstances and then she drove off.

And before I could even turn around Olaf was there… and…”

He paused, taking a shuddering breath and Kit could practically see all his ease and humor evaporating, leaving the dejected, downcast man in its place that she had seen so often since they’d gotten to the City Station.

“What happened, Jacques?” she asked quietly.

“I wasn’t thinking,” he answered tonelessly and with great difficulty. “My mind was more occupied with Olivia than with the situation at hand. I followed him blindly into that barn… I didn’t even check for possible hazards and traps, I didn’t pay attention to what he was saying and what he wasn’t saying… I never saw that stupid book coming and when I finally did I was too gobsmacked to react so I got smacked down instead…

He nearly killed me, Kit and I jeopardized everything… I put the entire mission in danger… the welfare of the Baudelaires… It was because of me they ended up in that hellish hospital… Violet almost got decapitated… and that’s on me… Olaf and his henchmen were never supposed to reach Caligari Carnival, I was to prevent them for doing so… that’s why I send Olivia there, I thought she’d be save there… and instead I put her life in danger. And during the final operation I was completely useless. If it hadn’t been for you and Olivia, Klaus and Violet would have ended up as lion’s lunch. I have failed at every possible angle.

The amount of anger and self-loathing in his voice shook Kit to her core. He sounded absolutely wrecked and it was so unlike his usual collected, self-assured self that she was quite out of her depths how to deal with it.

“Jacques…” she started carefully, not quite sure how to begin. “You’re putting far too much on yourself. Olaf is the villain here… he’s the reason Violet almost lost her head and she and her brother almost ended up in that lion’s pit… the key-word here being ‘almost’ because it _didn’t_ happen, Jacques. And that’s because of you… and because you’ve worked tirelessly for months on end to keep them save.  
And as far as putting Olivia in danger, she’s a volunteer… she knew the risks when she signed up and she’s more than capable of fighting her own battles.”

Jacques only shook his head. “I should have handled things differently,” he argued. “I should have stayed true to my principles. They were sound. Romantic entanglements will only put the mission and other volunteers at risks. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.”

The full implications of his words hit her like train, explaining all of odd behaviors of the past couple of weeks. “So you’re not going to tell the woman you married that you have feelings for her?” 

“I now have three children to take care of,” he answered quietly. “Three children who have been through hell and back in the past months. And they’re wonderful children. And I know Olivia feels exactly the same about them. They have encountered all sorts of corruption and arrogance from adults around them who were supposed to take care of them and yet they have managed to stay true to their literary and philosophical principles. If they can accomplish that, so must I. The Baudelaires deserve nothing less from me.”

Kit knew from experience that when Jacques was so deeply buried into his conviction there was no talking against it. At least she had managed to get him to open up about what was troubling him and for tonight that had to be enough. Still she couldn’t resist one last parting shot.

“Bottling up and ignoring our feelings is usually mine and Lemony’s forte,” she warned. “It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Jacques merely raised his eyebrows at her. “Lemony doesn’t exactly bottle up his feelings… he tends to talk about them as if he always has an audience.”

Kit snorted and clicked her glass to his. “Fair enough.” 

 

* * *

She had offered to drive the cab since Jacques had had quite a bit more to drink than she had. When they stopped in front of the Townhouse Kit was surprised to see light spilling from the windows of the living room into the front yard where rosebud shrubbery was gleaming in the soft light of the moon. 

“Wow… you’ve really revamped the place.”

“Come on in, the kids will be happy to see you,” Jacques invited her and she was curious enough to hop out of the cab and follow him inside.

She had very vague memories of the place when her grandparents had still inhabited it. After they had passed away the house had been used for decades as a V.F.D. safe house, even though it had always belonged to the Snicket family.

Now the house was restored to its initial purpose and Kit was quite ready to admire everything Jacques and Olivia had done to the place.  
It was once more a warm, welcoming home and when she stepped into the living room she found Klaus and Violet sprawled out in front of the fireplace, both of them engrossed in their books.

Olivia was seated on the couch, her feet tucked up underneath her and an open book abandoned at her side, busily scribbling down in a small notebook.

As soon as she noticed them however she sprang to her feet, her smile radiant, if not a little insecure.

There was an air of novelty in the air, like you may experience on the first day of school, but at the same time there was an tranquil ease in the air, the sort that can only arise when people who are so compatible come together.

“Hello Jacques, hi Kit,” the eldest Baudelaires greeted them genuinely, closing their books and migrating towards the couch. 

“Sunny is already asleep,” Olivia informed them, getting up, “but would you care for some tea?”

They had built a home together, Kit realized. And it was a warm and loving one, no matter how much Jacques was still fighting it.

Next to her she could see his posture soften, the stiff line of his shoulders relaxing.

“Hi kiddo’s,” he greeted back, his low voice warm with affection. “How was your evening?”

As he settled himself on the couch as well, his eyes drifted towards to open kitchen were Olivia was pouring out the tea, humming softly to herself.

Flopping down in one of the cosy armchairs Kit grinned to herself. Jacques could be determined all he wanted, but he would never be able to withstand all that domestic bliss for long.

Really, the man didn’t stand a chance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the family is settling in...

Being all of a sudden part of a family of five definitely took some adjusting and Jacques was surprised at how it was simultaneously both the hardest and the most easiest thing he had ever done.

After having been a volunteer for over thirty years he was used to being able go wherever the job took him. Aside from his siblings, there had never been anyone to take into account and he’d always been able to come and go as he’d pleased. He’d expected to find it stifling to now have a wife and children to be considerate of, but he was astonished to discover that that was hardly the case.

In truth he loved having a home again. After years of living out the trunk of this cab and moving from safe house to safe house, there was something magical about waking up in his own bed in the morning and listening to the rest of house waking up as well.  
Grandfather Chas’ house had always felt comfortable and familiar, but now it truly was a home and he thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

Right now he was still recuperating from Olaf’s attack and he’d been told in no uncertain terms that it would be at least another two months before he could even begin to think of resuming his duties again. So presently he was going to the gym at the City Station three times a week to train with a physical therapist in order to regain his former strength and swiftness, but it would be some time before he’d be able to swirl himself across a bar again.  
Despite hating to be out of commission and feeling useless, if he was honest with himself, quite a large part of him also reveled in the chance it gave him to be around his new family.

Since it was still summer the children too were spending their days mostly at the house, awaiting the start of the new school year and he was glad to be home so much as well to help the children ease into the transition from being on the run constantly to having a home and permanent guardians again.

Which brought him to the challenging part of his new life. It only took him a few days to realize just how big of a responsibility he had taken on when he had decided to adopt the Baudelaires. After everything they had been through, it was hardly any wonder that the three of them were deeply shaken and distressed, but it wasn’t until all the dust had settled around them that Jacques began to fully realize just how deep the scars Olaf and his cohorts had inflicted on the Baudelaire siblings went.

In comparison, the few blows the Count had dealt him with that crowbar were nothing of significance. 

And the worst of it was, the children barely let on that anything was troubling them. They’d been living at the Snicket Townhouse for two weeks now and were still on their best behavior, always saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and going out of their ways to prevent themselves from causing even the slightest inconvenience.

Klaus and Sunny seemed to have settled in tolerably well. Klaus had all but barricaded himself inside the library, reading everything regarding the V.F.D. he could get his hands on, filling journal after journal with notes. Olivia helped him with his research whenever she could, equally eager to learn as much about the organization as possible and conversation at dinnertime usually revolved around the barrage of questions they’d come up with during the day.

Out of the three siblings Sunny seemed to have adjusted best to the new setting. She had developed a preference for soft, warm surfaces and spend hours a day snuggled up on cushions and blankets, dozing in the warmth of the sparse sun or the fireplace.  
Jacques suspected that the toddler was simply bodily exhausted after the tribulations of the past months and was catching up on all the sleep she’d missed out while they had been on the run. She made him think of a sleepy kitten and it was rather gratifying to carry her to the warmest spot in the house, tuck her into fluffy blankets and watch her slumber peacefully.

When she was awake however she was content and cheerful, often gurgling happily and easing the strain her siblings were under. 

At the moment Jacques was most worried about Violet. The eldest Baudelaire, who had been so strong, so resourceful and so unbeatably optimistic all along seemed utterly rattled now that the danger had finally abated.

She was perfectly polite and well-mannered around them, but also incredibly guarded. When looking at her Jacques could practically see her waiting for the other shoe to drop. And so she went out of her way to keep the inevitable from happening. She meticulously cleaned up after herself and her siblings. Their beds were always made, their pillows fluffed and their rooms spotlessly clean.

And even after a fortnight, her room still looked completely impersonal. From his own childhood he remembered Kit’s room always looking as if a hurricane had just ran through it, but Violet’s room was a polar opposite, nothing indicating that a fifteen-year-old girl was inhabiting the space. 

It had taken Olivia a week to figure out why she never saw any laundry coming out of the children’s rooms, until she discovered that Violet was washing and drying all of their clothes herself in the guest bathroom. When she had gently tried to explain to the girl that she could just throw all of their things into the large hampers in the laundry room, Violet had looked at her completely non-plussed.

She was trying to earn her keep, Jacques realized, making sure to be as unobjectionable as possible to ensure their stay and it completely broke his heart.

She was also constantly alert, unconsciously checking the whereabouts of her siblings every few seconds. Sometimes she joined Klaus and Olivia in the library for a little while, but it seemed as if she wasn’t able to put her mind to anything for longer than ten minutes at the time. She was nervous and fidgety, flinching at every unexpected sound.  
Being a very light sleeper himself, he knew for a fact that she was wide awake during the night, partly because he could hear her move around in her room at night and also from the dark circles she sported underneath her eyes during breakfast.

The worry gnawed at him. Violet’s happiness was his responsibility now and he was failing miserably. Not wanting to pressure her he gave her a few more days to accept her new reality on her own terms and then he couldn’t stand it anymore.

 

* * *

Ever since they’d started living together, he and Olivia had made it their habit to share a cup of tea at the kitchen island before they went to their separate bedrooms at night. They usually used that time to discuss the children and their plans for the next couple of days and he’d come to treasure these moments greatly. 

Olivia was in one word perfect. Her sweetness and affection for the children made him melt every time he caught but a glimpse of it and he was fully aware that the house they shared was a home because of her. She’d filled every room with books, plants, flowers and warm, fuzzy plaids to snuggle up under. The summer thus far had been an abysmal one with nothing but rain, chilly winds and thunderstorms. But inside their house it was bright and warm and it was all because of her.

So that evening he shared his worries with Olivia and was somewhat relieved to discover that she felt exactly the same.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said, gazing pensively into her tea. “Klaus and I have been talking a lot over the past couple of weeks, but I didn’t realize until today that we’re basically talking about everything as long as it isn’t personal. The V.F.D., literature… yesterday we spend two hours thinking up anagrams… He is inimitable at that, I should mention, but it’s never really about him. He’s still hiding behind facts and knowledge and for now he feels safe there.

But Violet is different, she’s every bit as clever as Klaus is, but facts in themselves don’t interest her very much. She has a much more practical mind which she can’t use at the moment.”

The solution hit him like a train and he cursed himself for not thinking about it sooner. “I’ve been thinking about giving the cab a thorough checkup and make some improvements. Do you think Violet would be interested in helping me?”

Olivia’s smile lit up like he’d plugged her in. “I’m sure she’ll love that.”

They’d been married for two weeks now and their understanding could best described as being ‘functionally compatible.’ As long as they were discussing the children, the house or the V.F.D. they were right on the same page, completing each other perfectly.  
Everything else he’d managed to shove down consistently.

So far it was working. And for the sake of the children it had to continue that way.

 

* * *

When he made the suggestion the next morning at breakfast, Violet’s eyes initially widened with excitement. But it only lasted for a split second before it was replaced again with a look of meek compliance. 

“Of course, if you want me to.”

“If you’d rather be doing something else, that’s perfectly all right as well,” he told her seriously. “But to be honest, I’d like the help. And the company.”

That earned him a searching look and he could see the hesitation on her face. 

Olivia immediately jumped to his aid. “Klaus and I are re-arranging the library and there’s s new hammock for Sunny to try out, so we’re all booked.” Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a handful of ribbons. “And I got you these while shopping yesterday.”

“T-hank you…” Violet stammered, her hand closing tightly around the ribbons. “I think I’d like to help… it’ll be nice to work with my hands again.”

Smiling broadly he shared a relieved look with Olivia. “Let’s go then!” 

 

* * *

Underneath the townhouse was a large garage where the cab was parked and all the tools were stored. After changing into overalls they started to work. As the morning progressed, Jacques held up a steady stream of chatter while they lifted the engine from underneath the hood.  
Being an active V.F.D. volunteer for three decades had provided him with a vast supply of anecdotes and he told her the most outlandish situations he had found himself in, carefully avoiding any mention of her parents or Montgomery Montgomery. Kit’s antics were always good for a few laughs as well and after a while Violet started to loosen up a bit. 

It wasn’t until the afternoon however when they encountered a particularly difficult hitch with the distributor that Violet’s enthusiasm began to show. Hesitantly at first she started to offer suggestions, but after a bit of encouragement it didn’t take long before she was muttering under her breath about carbon-cord spark plug wires versus copper-cord ones and how to install a coiled one, happily tinkering away.

Jacques was both endeared and utterly gobsmacked, especially when, after about an hour or so, the taxi’s engine was sounding more smoothly than it had in years.

When she finally looked up again, Violet’s face was covered in grease smears and a wide grin. “That was fun!” she said emphatically. “I’ve never done that before.”

“You could have fooled me,” Jacques deadpanned, earning him another laugh.

“What else?” she asked, looking at him expectantly.

“Well…” Jacques started, feeling torn between the idea that he needed her to get her to talk and open up and his genuine pleasure at finding someone who was just as fascinated by the wonders of mechanical inventions as he was. Eventually the latter won out and he grabbed a book titled _‘Vehicle Franchise Dictionary_ ’ from the workbench and showed Violet a few specifically bookmarked pages.

“I’ve always wanted to make some improvements to the taxi, but I never really got around to do it…”

 

* * *

In the week that followed they worked tirelessly on the cab and with every day that passed Violet brightened  up just a little bit more. Out of the two, Jacques had the most hands-on skills and experience with maintaining the taxi and he took great enjoyment from teaching Violet every trick he knew. Violet however was the creative one and Jacques was astonished by the ingenious ideas she came up with,  often greatly improving the improvements suggested by the ‘ _Vehicle Franchise Dictionary’._

No longer quiet and subdued, Violet chatted excitedly about the plans and ideas she’d come up with for the cab and Jacques reflected with amusement that by the time they were done the cab would have effectively been transformed into a fully equipped tank.

Exhausted after a full day of working on the taxi and spending the evenings pouring over the _‘Vehicle Franchise Dictionary’_ and designing blueprints, Violet slept like a ton of bricks now and soon the haggard expression on her face started to fade, replaced by a new spark.

Jacques easily admitted that he was having just as much fun and the beaming smiles Olivia gave him each night made him feel like he was walking on air.

 

* * *

It happened when they were installing the final gadget on the cab, a series of mirrors placed in such a way that they would give the driver and every other passenger in the car a 360 degree vision of whatever was surrounding, encountering or following the taxi. 

“Whoever who’s following us now will not remain undetected for long,” Violet said in a satisfied tone of voice. As she was making her comment she was lying partly underneath the car where she was securing the cable connecting all the mirrors to the bottom.

Jacques looked up from adjusting the wipers on the windshield, the significance of her words hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“Is that something you worry about?” he asked carefully.

Underneath the car the girl froze.

“Violet?” Jacques asked again, quietly making his way around the taxi.

When she continued to remain very still, he sighed, weighing his options.

“Whether or not we have this conversation right now is completely up to you,” he eventually said gently, leaning against the workbench. “But I want you to know that I’m right here if you want to talk.”

Another long, deathly quiet moment stretched out between them and then Violet very slowly emerged from underneath the car.  
Without making eye-contact she scrambled to her feet and and came to stand next to him, mimicking his stance against the workbench.

“I know that Count Olaf is dead,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But Esmé Squalor and all the others are not. And I don’t think they’ve given up… I think they’re still out there, trying to get to us.”

“Everybody, except you three always underestimated Olaf,” Jacques said slowly, “so I’m curious.. how much of a threat do you think Esmé is?

“I think she’s even more heartless than Count Olaf was,” Violet replied flatly. “Count Olaf hated us… which put us in terrible peril, but at least hate is an emotion. When you hate someone, at least you feel something…

Esmé is cold as ice… she cares about nothing except herself and her sugar bowl… she threw Klaus, Sunny and me down an elevator shaft, right after she’d told us we could trust her, that she wanted to be our guardian… She would have murdered us in cold blood and be happy about it…”

The depth of Esmé’s betrayal revolted Jacques. By the time the Baudelaire siblings had come into Jerome and Esmé’s care they had already suffered through so much pain and loss and that vile woman had only twisted the knife a few more extra times.

“I know I’m supposed to feel safe now,” Violet continued, her voice heavy. “But as long as Esmé’s still out there… I can’t help but expecting the worst.”

‘You are not _supposed_ to feel anything,” Jacques told her firmly. “You and your brother and sister have been through the most unimaginable horror. You’ve been betrayed by the very people who were supposed to protect you and it’s no wonder that you are afraid.”

“But I don’t wan’t to feel afraid,” Violet looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears . All of a sudden she looked a great deal younger and more vulnerable than her fifteen years. “It’s just… I’ve heard it all so many times… ‘you’re safe now… nothing bad will happen to you now…’ but we never were and it always did… and now I don’t know how to believe that anymore…”

The last word ended in a sob before she dissolved into tears and more on impulse than anything else Jacques pulled her into a hug, feeling immensely relieved when she buried her face into his shoulder and just wept.

He kept making soothing noises until she’d cried herself out and only then he pulled away slightly to look at her.

“I’m not going to make empty promises that you’re save and completely out of danger. Because as much as it pains me to say it, I tend to agree with you. As long as Esmé Squalor is out there, our enemies have not yet been defeated. But I will promise you this: for as long as we both draw breath, Olivia and I will do everything in our power to protect you and Klaus and Sunny and keep you safe. For what it’s worth, you have my word on that.”

To his own ears it hardly sounded comforting at all, but to his surprise Violet laughed breathlessly, her entire posture relaxing.

“You basically resurrected yourself from the death to save us at the carnival, so I’d say your word is worth a great deal.”

Her words caused the guilt that’d held a vice-like grip on his heart since the events in the village to unclench somewhat and for a moment his head was swimming with the implications. Then he focussed his attention back on the girl in front of them.

“Let’s get you back upstairs, em?” he suggested softly. “Olivia will probably have tea ready.”

 

* * *

Once they made their way into the kitchen, Olivia took one look at Violet’s tear-streaked face before putting the kettle down and rushing towards her. 

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” she asked, her voice rich with concern.

Giving her a little nudge forwards, Jacques watched happily how Violet disappeared into Olivia’s embrace, her own arms coming up to return the hug. Olivia stroked the girl’s hair for a bit before pulling back a bit and wiped at her tear and grease streaked cheeks.

“I’m fine… really…” Violet insisted, smiling tremendously. “Better since… a very long time, actually.”

“How about I draw you a nice, warm bath?” Olivia suggested, her voice so tender that Jacques could feel his own throat close up.

When Violet nodded eagerly, Oliva wrapped her arm around the girl’s waist and ushered her upstairs, throwing one last look behind her as she exited the kitchen.

Her eyes were bright with wonder and admiration, her look making him feel as if he could tackle the entire worldand come on top victorious, making his heart swell with happiness.

 

And then his sense of duty kicked in. He’d just made Violet Baudelaire a big promise. The same promise he had made wordlessly to Olivia, Klaus and Sunny.

 

And he fully intended to keep it, without anything distracting him from that promise.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Olivia settles into her new life and her new home Jacques accidentally gets an eyeful.

**Chapter 5**

The house was beautiful and even after six weeks of living in it, Olivia still felt a little thrill every time she walked up the steps of the sprawling, yellow paneled, Victorian townhouse. After the frigid, depressing misery of Prufrock Preparatory School stepping inside the house felt like bathing in a ray of warm sunlight even when the month of August passed away in a grey curtain of rain. 

Most of the walls inside the house were also painted in a deep yellow paint and had sturdy white plinths and very bit of natural light that fell through the large windows made them shine cheerfully.

It was impossible for her to decide which of the rooms of the house was her favorite. In the mornings it was the open kitchen with the cosy adjoined dining area. Five chairs were crammed around a round, cherry wood table and Olivia loved to sit there in the morning, sipping here tea and watching the children eat their breakfast.   
Jacques had told her that this had used to be only a breakfast nook and that there had been a formal dining room as well. But grandmother Ivy Snicket had loved the light and the airy space of the kitchen and had flat out refused to eat anywhere else.

The dining room,a tall, somewhat dark room and perfect for storing books was then converted into a library.   
Olivia thought that Ivy Snicket was a very wise woman, because the library, with its built-in bookcases that reached the ceiling was a place of beauty. The library was well-stocked - Jacques admitted to all the Snickets being great readers - but considering the fact that for the past twenty years the house had had often changing inhabitants, who were only passing through, the place definitely needed a librarian’s touch and Olivia had thrown herself into the task with abandon, happily assisted by Klaus. She was still taking inventory and every day surprised her with a new, wonderful find.

One day she found a box, containing to her delight black and white photographs of the most peculiar creatures she’d ever seen. There was a lovely photo of a beautiful girl, floating a few inches above the ground, a young man lifting a what must be a hundred pound bowder with a single hand and one of a very resigned looking girl with a perfectly round hole right in the middle of her body, among countless others. Jacques had explained to her that he was keeping the photos safe for his good friend Jake Portman.

The living room, apart from its own share of bookcases had a few lovely reading corners  and a massive fireplace, surrounded by a big couch and various comfy chairs. In the evening the family usually migrated there. Jacques was teaching Klaus how to place chess, a game the boy turned out to be highly proficient in, while she was usually reading and Violet working on whatever project she was currently invested in. 

Upon settling into the house, Jacques had insisted she would take the master bedroom. There had been no use arguing with him, he had swiftly and self-assuredly moved his personal belongings into one of the spare bedrooms before she could even formulate a protest. It was a lovely room though and although she still felt slightly guilty for taking it, she still loved waking up there every morning.   
The walls of the master bedroom were all painted a dark teal, giving the rooms a pleasant, secure atmosphere.   
  
Each of the children had been given their own room on the first floor and all of them had finally began to settle down in them.

Sunny, who favored bright colors had a lovely nursery, right in between Oliva and Violet’s rooms, so that both of them could easily access her, should the need arise.   
As the weeks had progressed, Violet had slowly began to relax her protective stance around her sister, bit by bit allowing Olivia to take over certain tasks when it came to Sunny’s care, who was more than happy to ease some of the responsibility from the girl’s shoulders.   
  
Across the hall from their rooms was the girls bathroom and on the other side of the hall were two more bedrooms, one for Jacques and one for Klaus.

After her conversation with Jacques, Violet’s room finally started to reflect her personality. When the realization had taken root that she had a room to herself to decorate just as she pleased, she’d tackled the challenge with her usual creativity and resourcefulness.   
Together with Jacques she had spend a rainy day covering all four walls with blackboard paint from top to bottom, effectively creating this huge blank space were she could design and map out all of her inventions. In the days that had followed, the walls had steadily filled with drawings, notes, blueprints and phrases of ideas Violet had jolted down.   
Jacques had arranged for a drawing board table to be put inside her room and from that moment on whenever a vague idea that had been first jolted down on the blackboard wall began to solidify in an actual concept, Violet took it to the drawing board to work it out in more detail.

Sometimes, when standing in her room and looking around, Olivia reflected thatthe place was more or less an actual glimpse inside the girl’s head and though process.

Klaus had taken up his studies again in preparation of the new school year and lamented deeply how much he had fallen behind schedule.

Olivia did everything in her power to cheer him up and help him prepare, realizing quickly that he needed a clear, well-ordered space to work in. His bedroom was partly turned into a study and Olivia helped him set up bulletin and planning boards and establish a filing system that would help him keep track of all his study related tasks and assignments.

Privately she thought that a boy as smart and studious as Klaus would have no trouble catching up once school had started again, but she recognized his need for control after the year of mayhem that was now behind him.

She and Jacques had discussed their own futures with the V.F.D. and agreed that they both would like to remain active volunteers, but would prefer to be stationed permanently in the city, feeling that the children were now their first and most important priority. 

In the city there would always be work for a capable, reliable cab driver with a valid taxi permit and a collection of well-curated books in the trunk and so he would be on call for assistance in the area. Being a cab driver would give him flexibility of schedule and he planned to work from home Fridays, tackling the administration that came with being a volunteer.

As for herself, when she had gotten her permanent assignment she’d been ready to combust with excitement.   
Jacquelyn had gotten her a job for four days a week at a small, cosy-looking bookstore at the outskirts of the city, starting on the first of September. The shop was called: _Luminosity - Seller of Venerable Fictive Documents._

Olivia could not have been happier.   
“You see, bookshops are dreams built of wood and paper. They are time travel and escape and knowledge and power. They are, simply put, the best of places,” she had quoted dreamily when the secretary had told her.

As it turned out, Luminosity was exactly that, a place of knowledge and power, for the shop served as a cover-up for an active exchange of V.F.D. related books, pamphlets and documents and Olivia couldn’t wait to be a part of it.

Another major perk of the job was that she was allowed to bring Sunny with her, which meant she could keep the toddler close at all times.

Provided that the world remained quiet, apart from the weekends, she also was to have the Wednesdays off, which meant Violet and Klaus had to sign up for after school activities on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, but would be spending the rest of their time with their family.

Everything fitted together seamlessly and Olivia was extremely grateful for it.

It was more than she had ever dared to dream of during her lonely years at Prufrock Prep and even if wasn’t exactly everything she wanted, what of it? 

It was more than enough for her. It had to be.

 

* * *

After spending her first fortnight in a near comatose state, due to sheer exhaustion, Sunny was now back to being her happy, cheerful, and well… sunny self. 

Even if pressed Olivia would always maintain that she loved all three Baudelaire children equally, even though in the past weeks she had developed very different and unique relationships with the two eldest.

But when it came to Sunny, she was hopelessly lost. And she knew she wasn’t alone in that, both Jacques and her were hopelessly smitten with the adorable toddler. From her soft, downy curls, to her sweet gurgles and jabber talk, Olivia loved every single thing about her.

Instead of being jealous of all the affection she was receiving, Klaus and Violet seemed to actually trust their guardians more, seeing that they loved their baby sister almost as much they did. And so all four of them doted on her.

And where any other child would have turned into an insufferable spoiled brat (and Olivia still shuddered when she remembered Carmelita Spats) Sunny just soaked up all that love and attention and doled it out again with equal generosity.

Her happy, toothy grin in the morning was a foolproof way of making Olivia’s heart swell with happiness. She loved fussing over the little girl and since Sunny was quite the little fashionista she happily allowed herself be dolled up in colorful dresses with matching accessorizes every day.

Quite early after becoming the children’s guardian, Olivia had discovered that Sunny loved being bathed. Violet had told her eventually that during their year on the run, she’d most of the time been lucky just to find a clean rag every now and then to give Sunny a sponge-bath with, so it was no wonder that toddler loved to soak in warm, soapy water and get thoroughly clean.

It wasn’t long before she and Olivia had established an elaborate pamper-routine that included lots of playing with foam and blowing bubbles. It was the perfect way to spoil her and after six weeks Sunny could boast on having a collection of soaps, shower gels, bath bombs and lotions that rivaled Olivia’s.

Quickly after that it had dawned on Olivia that if Sunny liked her bath time so much, she would probably also love to go swimming.

She had carefully addressed the subject to Violet and Klaus and after some initial hesitation they had both taken an deep breath and decided that Oliva taking to a swimming pool might be a very good idea.

As it turned out, Sunny loved the pool and her glee when Olivia lowered her into the water, holding her gently as she splattered about was one of the most beautiful things Olivia had ever seen.   
Since that first time a routine had quickly been established. Twice a week, straight after breakfast, Olivia packed a swim bag, securedSunny into her stroller and walked the twenty minutes to the nearest swimming pool.

They spend an hour or so splashing around in the water, going of waterslides together and sometimes just simply floating around in the water, Oliva always making sure that she held the toddler safe in the circle of her arms. It was a wonderful time of bonding and they both enjoyed it tremendously.

 

* * *

One morning, about a week before school was about to start again, Olivia was in her bedroom, having just changed into her bathing suit, getting ready for another outing to the pool. Because it was far less of a hassle than changing in the dressing rooms, she usually put on her bathing suit on at home and wore her clothes over that. 

She was just about to slip into her wrap dresswhen a peeling scream could be heard from Sunny’s bedroom.

Without even thinking about it, she let the dress fall to the ground and sprinted to the other room, her heart beating in her throat, one terrifying scenario after another playing through her head.

Inside the nursery, she found Sunny standing inside her crib, her small hands grasped tightly around the bars, staring wide-eyed at the window.

“Bie bie!” she cried anxiously, her lower lip trembling pitifully.

“Oh honey, come here,” Olivia crooned softly, picking her up and holding her close against her. “What’s the matter then?”

_“Bie bie!”_ Sunny repeated more insistently, pointing at the window before hiding her face into Olivia’s neck.

Olivia scanned the windows, comprehension dawning when she noticed a large bee flying against the glass again and again, buzzing angrily.

The bee was massive, connecting with the window every few seconds with a loud ‘thud’ and when he flew a speedy circle around the room, Olivia inadvertently ducked away. Sunny was terrified of bees and in this instance Olivia could well understand why.

Mere seconds later Jacques burst into the room, his face pinched with worry.

“I heard Sunny scream…,” he said anxiously. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a bee in the room,” Olivia replied, pointing towards the window. “She hates bees.” 

Judging from the murderous look Jacques gave the insect, Olivia was sure the bee was as good as dead. But to her surprise he took a plastic cup and a piece of paper from Sunny’s play table and advanced the window slowly, a look of utter concentration on his face, the bee still buzzing furiously against the glass.

With Sunny still in her arms, the girl stealing peeks between her fingers, Olivia watched as he approached it slowly, without making any sound until he was only inches away from the window. Then, with one swift motion he put the cup over the bee, trapping it inside. With his free hand he opened the window and then proceeded to slid the paper between the cup and the glas of the window. Carefully maneuvering the contraption towards the open window he held the cup outside before pulling the paper away. A moment later the bee was soaring in the air and disappeared as Jacques closed the window.

When Sunny squealed in relief, Oliva giggled and hugged the girl closer. “See? Jacques has saved us from the big, bad, bee… he’s our hero!”

She smiled at him, inviting him to share the joke, but when she looked up she found him staring at her with a stunned look on his face.

“Jacques…?” she asked, bewildered by his behavior.

It wasn’t until his eyes fitted over her that she realized with a sinking feeling that she was standing there clad in nothing but a green bathing suit with big, dark blue polkadots.

He continued to stare at her and she could feel her face heat up, a blush creeping up from her neck to her hairline, her skin prickling uncomfortably with embarrassment.   
Even though she was wearing a rather modest, one-piece bathing suit, it was the most undressed Jacques had ever seen her and the fact that he gave no reaction whatsoever aside from an unfaltering, gob-smacked expression was dispiriting to say the least.

“I was about to change for the pool…” she offered lamely and winched at how redundant her words were.

Against her shoulder, Sunny giggled loudly.

Jacques was still rooted on the spot, his face completely unreadable, his mouth slightly agape and she was just thinking that it would be r _eally_ nice if the ground could open now and swallow her up when the door burst open for a second time and Violet and Klaus ran in, both of them panting.

“We thought we heard Sunny…” they both said simultaneously.

“There was a bee in the nursery, Jacques got rid of it,” Olivia explained, her mortification increasing. “It’s gone now.”

“Oh…’ they both sagged with relief, the tension visibly draining from their faces.

“Are you going swimming?” Klaus asked and Oliva nodded absent-mindedly, beginning to wish they would all just get out so she could combust into flames from shame in private.

Jacques apparently had remembered how to move again, because he was now awkwardly playing with the cuffs of his jacket, looking pointedly everywhere but at her.

“Oh, that’s a lovely bathing suit,” Violet gushed and Olivia would have really appreciated the compliment if it hadn’t drawn attention to the entire room that she was wearing nothing more than said bathing suit.

Looking around the room, Violet seemed to pick up on the awkward atmosphere and faltered. “Well… it is… don’t you think so Klaus?”

She was obviously appealing to her brother for support, but instead of agreeing with her, Klaus very much resembled a deer caught in headlights in that moment, his face noticeably more colored than before. He made a rather extraordinary noise, before scraping his throat and stammering in an oddly pinched voice:   
“I-I have a lot of reading to catch up on…” and bolting straight out of the room.

To Olivia Klaus had always appeared so mature, so much older than his actual age, but in that moment she realized he was still very much a thirtheen-year-old boy, right in the middle of the confoundment that was puberty.

“Yes, well…” Jacques’ normally baritone voice sounded at least two octaves higher than normal as well, and Olivia blinked at him in surprise.

He took a deep breath and continued in a more composed tone of voice: “I’m going to the City Station this morning for my physical therapy.”

His announcement surprised Olivia a great deal and she couldn’t help but ask: “But isn’t today supposed to be your rest day?”

He’d been taking his exercises extremely serious and she understood why it was so important for him to regain his former strength as soon as possible, but it wouldn’t do for him to push himself too hard.

“I made an appointment with my trainer… I’ll be fine…” he answered vaguely, still not really meeting her eye. 

“Enjoy your swimming… I’ll see you tonight.”

It wasn’t until he’d left the room that Olivia felt she could draw a full breath again.

When she looked at Violet, she found that the girl was looking at her with an odd expression on her face and her heart sank for the second time in the span of ten minutes. 

Whatever there was going on - or rather wasn’t going on between her and Jacques, Violet shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Forcing her face into a bright, perky expression, she handed Sunny over to her elder sister.

“Would you mind putting Sunny into her bathing suit while I finished to get dressed? There’s a pool calling our name.”

 

* * *

Once back into the safety of her own bedroom she leaned against the door and buried her face in her hands, once more feeling the embarrassment wash over her like a wave. 

Honestly, she didn’t know what had been worse, the horror-struck expression on Jacques’ face or the fact that he wouldn’t even look at her after that.

Despite her apprehension about the whole marriage of convenience scheme, she’d been incredibly happy for the past six weeks.   
So happy in fact that it had almost outweighed the pain of knowing that Jacques was no longer romantically interested in her. 

In fact the only fly in the blissful, domestic ointment that was her current life was the awkward, strained tension that now tainted their relationship.   
She’d tried to be happy with what they had now. He’d brought them into this wonderful house and had gone out of his way to ensure they were all as comfortable as could be. It wasn’t as if he was ignoring her. He was friendly and solicitous around her, always including her into conversation and asking her opinion about the house and the children. Their evening tea ritual had become one of the most precious moments of the day to her. And as long as they were talking about anything that wasn’t too personal, they were fine. They could discuss the children, the V.F.D., matters of the house and all of it in perfect compatibility. It never ceased to amaze her just how like-minded they were.

And sometimes she could convince herself that it was enough. That being co-parents and friends was more fulfilling than having him as a romantic partner.

But most of the time, it felt as if they were playing a game that required them following a strict said of rules and that one misstep could send the entire thing crumbling down.   
Because as kind and pleasant as he was, there was something unapproachable about him that invaded every conversation, every interaction they had. The easy friendship they had shared at the start of their acquaintance had evaporated and as much as she tried to rationalize it away, her heart was broken because of it.

Because living in the same house, taking care of the children together and being his wife, even if it was in name only, only made her realize stronger that he was just in every way the perfect man for her. She’d been infatuated with him right from the start, had fallen head over heels in love with him when they’d chased Olaf and his troupe trying to save both the Quagmires and the Baudelaires, but now, after six weeks of sharing her life with him she knew with absolute certainty that she loved him.

Watching him interact with the children, seeing his endless patience as he tried to coax them out of their shells and the many ways he openly showed his affection for them made her yearn to have some of that affection for herself.   
It wasn’t jealousy exactly, she didn’t begrudge the children anything, not when she loved them as much as he did, it was just that, for once her life, she wished she too was special enough. Special enough to be chosen and to be loved. That it was enough just to be Olivia.

Taking a deep breath wiped her face with heels of her hands and picked up her dress from the floor.

She was dangerously close to throwing herself a pity-party and that was the kind of slippery slope she should steer clear from.

There was a toddler who couldn’t wait to go swimming with her.

 

It would have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A visual of the bathing suit that left Jacques unable to function:   
> https://topvintage.nl/nl/vintage-retro/50s-classic-polkadot-one-piece-swimsuit-in-green-and-navy  
> (Basically, that whole webshop is 'outfits Olivia would totally wear) 
> 
> The bookstore-quote is from Jen Campbell


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacques realizes a few things...

**Chapter 6:**

Jacques Snicket prided himself on being a focussed, rule-abiding driver regardless of the situation he found himself in.   
But on the short drive from the townhouse to the City Station he managed to miss two red lights, drive across a pedestrian crossing without stopping and make three turns without signaling

All in all he considered himself lucky to have arrived at the City Station in one piece. He couldn’t remember ever being so distracted, but the image of Olivia’s luminous white skin kept flashing through his mind, making it impossible to concentrate on anything but his desire to drive back to the house, pluck Sunny out of her arms and declare his undying love for her.

And the morning had started out so well. Having woken up early he had decided to treat the children to chocolate chip pancakes and the surprised look on their faces had been more than worth the trouble.   
It was the little things that made his new life so incredibly satisfying and seeing the children enjoy a leisured breakfast, joking and laughing with each other, while the morning sun filtered through the windows was definitely one of them.

Then Olivia had wandered in, a long cardigan over yellow pajamas adorned with little books, her chestnut hair still braided and his heart had skipped a beat.   
Usually she looked so well put together and as much as he enjoyed the dressy blouses, pencil skirts and high heels, there was something incredibly domestic about seeing her in her sleeping attire, lured downstairs by the smell of the pancakes.

When she reached for the teapot, pouring herself a steaming mug of tea that he’d prepared earlier, enjoying the strong taste of it as much as he did, everything had simply be perfect in his world.

After breakfast he’d been cleaning the kitchen when he’d heard Sunny’s shriek.

Without hesitating he had raced upstairs, ready to tackle down whoever was trying to scare his little girl and when he’d stormed into the room, Olivia was already there, clutching Sunny tightly against her, looking equally ready to defend the toddler.

The fearsome intruder turned out to be nothing more vicious than a rather oversized bee and it had been the work of a minute to get rid of the bug.

Olivia had said something to him then, but it hadn’t registered, because he’d finally noticed what exactly she’d been wearing.   
And immediately his brain had short-circuited, all of the blood in his body locating southwards with such a speed that it left him feeling dizzy.

The ferocity of his reaction shocked even himself. After all, it wasn’t as if he was completely wet behind the ears. In his years as an V.F.D. spy he’d come across women who’d been in a farther state of undress than Olivia had been at that moment, but never in his life had he been so affected by a modest bathing suit.

She was utter perfection, with her tantalizing curves and endless amounts of soft, brilliantly pale skin that begged the be touched.   
And when she had blushed he had nearly swallowed his tongue, aching with the urge to kiss every inch of that prettily flushed skin.

He knew he must have looked like a prize idiot, gaping at her, completely enthralled, unable to move or speak, even if his life had depended on it, but he had been utterly unable to snap out of it.

Then Violet and Klaus had come in and the situation had become ten times more awkward. He still hadn’t been able to string a single coherent sentence together and the children, observant as always, had picked up on the bizarre atmosphere in the room.

Parking the cab in front of the City Station he leaned back in his seat and slammed the steering wheel with both his hands in vexation with himself.   
After all of his effort, after weeks of keeping himself in check and bottling up his feelings for her, one green bathing suit with dark blue polkadots had undone all of it.

He had ruined all the progress he’d made in the past couple of weeks. After a strained start he and Olivia had fallen into a comfortable pattern. It still amazed him how seamlessly they worked together where the children where concerned, Olivia’s nurturing personality making it so much easier for him to show his devotion to the children.   
In their house, surrounded by his family, he didn’t need to pretend and keep up a tough front all the time. That part of him that just wanted to devote his time and energy to his family, making sure they were happy and had everything they needed had been doormat for so long, but since Olivia and the children had come into his life, it had finally emerged, making him feel truly happy and fulfilled for the first time in his life.

When he’d first made the decision to keep Olivia at arm’s length he had been worried about the irrevocable damage this could do to their relationship. His flirtatiousbehavior and the kiss they had shared before she’s set off for the Caligari Carnival must have let her believe that there could be a future for them.  
And even knowing that he was acting in the best interest of her and the children, it had still pained him to hurt her.

But as the weeks had wore on and she’d been able to interact with him calmly, even regaining some of the friendship they’d shared before he’d realized he’d been worried for nothing.

Olivia Caliban might have been attracted to him when they’d first meet, but after his sudden cold treatment of her she’d swiftly moved on like the sensible woman that she was.

It was everything he had hoped for and he should be pleased with this development and content himself with their comfortable, platonic friendship.

And he _was_ content. He truly was.

Taking a deep breath he realized warily though that the carnal impulses induced bymental image of her clad in nothing but that green bathing suit with the dark blue polkadots were anything but platonic. And so he climbed out of the cab and headed inside the building, towards the gym.

 

A vigorous, fatiguing workout was just what he needed.

 

 

* * *

On the last Saturday before school was about to start again, Jacques and Olivia surprised Klaus and Violet with a visit to Duncan and Isadora Quagmire. 

They had debated whether or not it would be wise to bring the children together after all of the trauma they had endured, but in the end they had decided to simply suggest their idea to the children and let their reactions guide them.

The look of utter excitement and happiness had quickly erased all of their apprehension and early that morning Jacques drove them all into the city for a meet-up.

After their escape from the village of Fowl Devotees the Quagmires spend several weeks in the self-sustaining hot air mobile home before Hector had managed to safely deliver them to the V.F.D. headquarters in the Mortmain Mountains.

Now that their parents too had perished, the two siblings had been adopted by their aunt, a sister of their father. Veronica Quagmire had been a teacher for over thirty years and was more than happy to take in the Quagmire children.

Jacques was relieved to know that the Quagmire children too were finally safe. Quigley still hadn’t been discovered yet, which was the one matter that still troubled him excessively. Until the Quagmire triplets were reunited, Jacques know he would be able to rest and despite the fact that he was still on authorized leave, he was already discreetly making inquiries after possible leads as to the boys whereabouts.

But that was a worry for another day, today they would focus on bringing the children together. 

They started at a small, cosy bakery, the children filling each other in on everything that had happened in their lives since their last encounter while getting their fill of an assortment of cakes and pastries and it was wonderful to see them relaxed and happy.   
The Quagmires, as it turned out had settled well into living with their aunt, even though they were still shaken by the death of their parents.   
Both of them loved seeing Olivia again and judging from her brilliant smile and teary eyes the feeling was entirely mutual. 

They spend the day meandering through the city and ended up visiting the Museum of Espionage where they gaped at the various displays of ingenious artifacts of observation and assassination. There were recorders in lighters, cameras in brassieres, decks of cards with hidden maps to every location imaginable and a collection of potions that made the hairs Jacques neck stand up. The children were delighted and he was amused to see Violet scribbling fervently into her notebook.

He had a sneaky suspicion a new set of inventions would soon see the light of day. There was no denying that Violet was incredibly talented and Jacquelyn had already expressed a desire in recruiting her as a new volunteer.   
After discussing the matter with Olivia, they had both decided it would be better to hold off for just a little while.

Violet was a born for the V.F.D., there was no doubt about that and Jacques knew in his bones that she was destined for great things, but for now he very much wanted her to have a few peaceful years, surrounded by her family.

Smiling to himself he watched Klaus read every single description on every single display, absorbing the knowledge like a sponge. 

Klaus too would one day become an tremendous asset to the V.F.D. but his pursuits were very different from Violet’s. Not every volunteer was recruited at a young age and Klaus first had many years of school, university and post-grad programs to look forward to.

Their children had a future again and Jacques could accomplish just that in his life, it would be enough.

 

 

* * *

When dinnertime rolled around they talked about where to eat. 

“Na sal!” Sunny proclaimed firmly.

“She means no Café Salmonella,” Klaus translated and Olivia shuddered.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” she said emphatically and Jacques snickered.

“How about The Veritable French Diner instead?” he suggested.

Twenty minutes later they were all seven of them were seated around a large family table and Jacques ordered the drinks.

“Does Larry work here as well?” Olivia asked, taking a sip of her ginger ale.

“He does occasionally,” Jacques replied, “but then again he waiters wherever intervening waiting needs to be done.”

At his words Violet’s eyes widened and she shared a look with Isadora before the two girls burst into giggles.

Jacques raised an eyebrow at them. “Something funny, girls?”

“I just remember something Duncan and Isadora told us earlier,” Violet answered and at her words, Klaus and Sunny started to grin as well, clearly in on the joke. “About something you did.”

Catching Olivia’s eyes he realized she was just as dumbfounded as he was. But judging from the children’s mirth it couldn’t be too bad.   
“Well, that could be quite a number of things, so color me curious.”

Violet eventually took pity on him. “It’s something Larry told Duncan and Isadora when they were staying at the V.F.D. headquarters,” she explained. “Apparently Jacques called Carmelita Spats a ‘cake sniffer’ while he was rescuing Larry.”

As if on cue the children burst into laughter again, Sunny squealing delightedly.

Despite himself, Jacques grinned before gravely replying. “I might have done just that. I found her to be an extremely unpleasant girl. And besides… she started it.”

“Really, Jacques Snicket,” Olivia admonished him. “You got into a squabble with a little girl?”

She gave him an arched look, her eyes sparkling and for a second it was as if they were back in the cab, bantering and flirting back and forward as they chased the Quagmire children and his heart squeezed tightly with regret.

Oh, to hell with it. For once he could pay her back in kind and pretend that there was nothing stopping him from trying to win her over.

“I did nothing of the sort,” he answered stately. “I merely told her that I did not care for her mistreating my friend. And _then_ I called hercake sniffer.”

The children cracked up again and it took some effort to keep his face straight. “It did shut her up however.”

Olivia inclined her head towards him, her face solemn. “That is no small feat, I concede.”

Then the corner of her mouth tugged, dimples appearing in both of her cheeks. “I would have loved to see her get taken down a notch.”

The children hummed heartily in agreement to that statement and then their food was served. As they all tucked in, Olivia remarked quietly: “I never realized you came to Prufrock Prep while I was there.”

Up until she said it, he hadn’t either but it didn’t take long before his mind supplied him with various different scenarios.

He would have met her at Prufrock and fallen as instantly for her as he’d done when he had almost hit her with the cab. He would have taken her, the Baudelaires and the Quagmires away from that dreary, dreadful place and none of the horrendous events of the past four months would have happened.

 

But it wouldn’t do to dwell on it.

  
Their story could have gone that way, except that it hadn’t.

 

 

* * *

 

On September the first school started and with that a whole new routine was put in motion.

Violet and Klaus especially were thrilled to be back in school, the latter throwing himself into his schoolwork with a zeal that slightly frightened Jacques.

After the first week he discreetly contacted the school’s counsellor, inquiring if the children were dealing with any consequences from their year of absence, but he was assured that both of them were settling in well and that their teachers were very pleased with both their behavior and performance.   
It was more or less exactly what he had been expecting, but it still took a weight of his shoulders to see them thriving.

On the morning that Olivia had started at her new job at _Luminosity_ he’d seen a side of her he hadn’t previously encountered. Around the children she always seemed so sure of herself, so completely in control, but that morning she’d been a mess of nervous excitement and sick-to-her-stomach anxiety.It baffled him that anyone as competent and clever as her could ever doubt her own capability and it had taken everything in him not to wrap her up in his arms and tell her that she was brilliant and beautiful and that she would excel at her new post.

By the time she got home that evening her apprehension had given way to utter delight at her new position, her euphoria not diminishing in the slightest in the weeks that followed and it made him realize just how under appreciated she had been at Prufrock.   
Olivia whole-heartedly loved her new job and the extensive research on V.F.D. matters she had done over the summer with Klaus definitely paid off as she began to implement a new filing system that combined resources that had never been connected before, greatly benefiting volunteers who were working in the field.

He himself hadn’t been cleared for active duty yet, much to his own chagrin, but he had been allowed to return to desk work and he now spend his working hours at the V.F.D. City Station, pouring over every file that mentioned the Quagmires in the hope of finding a trace of Quigley. Another perk of visiting the City Station regularly was the fact that he could use their gym facility. He discovered that in order to let his sanity and self control prevail it helped to workout regularly and he did so with gusto.

Klaus and Violet signed up for after school activities. Violet was elated to discover that there was quite an active inventors club at the school and immediately signed up. Meanwhile, Klaus joined the vocabulary olympiad team and started preparing for a tournament in November.

All in all his family was happy and at peace.

 

 

* * *

Then it became September the 30th, the one year anniversary of the fire that had destroyed the Baudelaire home and taken the lives of Bertrand and Beatrice. 

For days in advance the date hung like Damocles’ sword above their heads and if small mercies were anything to be thankful for, Jacques was grateful for the fact that the 30th fell on a Sunday so that the children at least wouldn’t have to worry about school work.

That morning they visited the cemetery where Bertrand and Beatrice were buried next to each other. It was a miserable, grey, rainy day and as they walked the gravel path, the Baudelaire children close together and him and Olivia each on one side, holding umbrellas over them. Their faces were clouded with sadness and white as sheets and Jacques heart twisted painfully from just looking at them.

Upon arriving at the graves he was startled to find that a small bouquet of red roses had already been placed at the foot of Beatrice’s tombstone.

The children smiled slightly at this display of affection for their parents, pleased that someone else but themselves was remembering them.

“They had a lot of friends,” Violet commented softly. “There was this whole world of people that they knew that we had no idea about.”

“I do wonder about the roses though,” Klaus said plaintively, his analytical mind piquing up even at a moment as this. “Roses are rather traditional as mourning flowers, but the color red isn’t… it’s an indicator of passion…”

At his words the budding suspicion that had been growing inside of him solidified and Jacques could feel his heart rate pick up.

Red roses on Beatrice’s grave… that could only mean that Lemony must be close by.

Taking a deep breath he tried to get his emotions under control. Right now the children needed his support, it wouldn’t do to upset them. 

The three of them knelt down at the conjuncted graves and Klaus carefully put down the bouquet of white lilies they had brought.

“Good bye father and mother,” Violet said quietly, her voice barely above a tearful whisper. “We miss you so much.” 

Without making a single noise Sunny buried her face into her sisters neck and patted her hair with her tiny, stubby fingers.

“We do,” added Klaus. “So very much. But you should also know… we are going to be all right. We will be now, because we have a home again…”

Jacques risked a glance at Olivia, only to see that there were tears streaming down her face and it wasn’t until he felt wetness against his own lips that he realized he was crying too.   
At long last the children rose, and as if by a magnetic pull, they both gravitated towards their guardians. Jacques wrapped his arm around Violet and Sunny while Olivia pulled Klaus into an embrace.

Eventually they slowly walked back to the cab and once inside they took a moment to collect themselves.

Turning to look over the front seat of the cab, he inspected the tearful faces of the children while Olivia doled out tissues and soft caresses against cheeks.

“Alright?” he inquired gently. 

“Yes… yeah…” Violet nodded. “I’m glad we went… It was good to say goodbye properly… we never really did that.”

“It was,” Klaus agreed. “But now… we just really want to go home if that’s all right.”

Almost too choked up to speak, Jacques nodded and fastened his seatbelt “Of course that’s all right… let’s go _home_.”

 

* * *

On beforehand he and Olivia had talked with the children about how they would like to spend the day and what each of them needed to get through it. The three siblings had indicated that they would like to remain as close as possible during the day and almost instinctively they holed themselves up in the library, the one single place where they had always managed to find comfort in the past year. 

For a moment he had wondered if the children wouldn’t rather prefer to be alone and he shared a worried look with Olivia.

But they hadn’t as much as taken one step towards the door when the children stiffened. “Aren’t you going to stay?” Violet asked in a quiet voice.

“Of course we are,” Olivia reassured her instantly. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

They spend a quiet, gloomy day inside, each of the children barely talking, feeling clearly that every word, no matter how well-meant, would fall like a stone in the fragility of their grief.

Jacques only left the room to fetch tea and light snacks for the children and as the afternoon turned into evening the children slowly started to relax a little, the heavy oppressiveness of sadness and mourning lifting somewhat, although it wasn’t until after dinner that they started to talk again.

“I have been dreading this day so much,” Violet confessed that evening, as she sat curled up on the couch, tucked underneath a blanket, Sunny dozing in her arms.

“Me too,” Klaus complemented. “There something so final about it. It’s been a year now… All of this year I’ve been thinking… ‘but last year father and mother were still here and they did this or that…’

Now I can’t do that anymore.”

“I know,” Violet said quietly. “I feel that too, but on the other hand… I’m also hoping it will be easier from now on. There will be no more firsts… No more first birthdays without them, no more first Christmas… we’ve all made it past that.”

“I hope it will get easier, but sometimes I doubt that it ever will,” Klaus said, his voice hoarse as if every word cost him to be spoken.   
“Sometimes in the morning, just after I have woken up… I haven’t yet remembered that they’re gone and for a moment everything feels like it used to be before… and then I _do_ remember…”

And Jacques himself remembered only too well. For the first few years after his own parents had died, how often had he woken up feeling the exact same way? But before he could say anything, Olivia’s tearful voice beat him to it.

“I know, honey… and it might take a while for that to go away, but it will eventually, I promise.”

Klaus smiled sadly. “It’s not as bad as it used to be… not since we started living here anyway… but I still feel terrible when it does.” 

 

_“But when the dawn of morning comes he wakes to find once more_

_That what he thought were sun-kissed hills are rags upon the floor,”_

Olivia quoted quietly.

 

Despite his grief, Klaus’ face lit up briefly in the way a literate mind does when it finds himself being understood by works of fiction. “That’s it… that’s exactly how I feel.. who wrote that?”

“It’s from a poem by Edgar Albert Guest,” Olivia replied. “I’ve always found it to be very comforting.”

For a long moment they were all quiet before Violet spoke again, her voice hesitant. “Olivia… do you still have your parents?”

Jacques watched his wife intently, seeing her startle at the unexpected question, his heart racing. He had wondered about it so often, but he had never quite dared to breech the subject himself.

Olivia took a shuddering breath, before she clenched her hands together in her lap. “I’m an orphan too… my parents passed away when I was five years old.”

There was a world of sadness in her voice, but when she looked at the children there was a look of recognition. Tilting her head she looked inquisitively before asking. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“We suspected it,” Violet answered. “It was something you said to us when we just got to Prufrock.”

“You said: ‘It’s awful, isn’t it, to have people missing from your life. It’s like a question that haunts you day and night and you’ll never know if that question will ever be answered,’” Klaus added.

Jacques shook his head with a smile, marveling at the boy’s memory.

Across from him Olivia was smiling as well, although more tearfully.

“Also,” Violet continued, “when Count Olaf made all the orphans stand up during the pep rally, you stood up as well. We’ve wondered ever since.”

“You children are far too clever,” Olivia answered, her voice rich with affection. “Very well, my parents died from carbon monoxide poisoning. During the investigation later they found a leak in the kitchen… which is where they perished… My father was meticulous about keeping windows closed, he hated draughts.”

“What happened to you after that?” Violet asked, leaning closer.

“First my aunt took me in,” Olivia told. “But she was planning a journey around the world and she couldn’t very well take me with her… she said I would only be weighing her down… so after that another couple took me in. They weren’t related to me… but they thought they wanted a child so they became my guardians. Then it turned out that I wasn’t compatible with their dog, so they send me away again…”

“That’s horrible!” Violet and Klaus exclaimed in unison, disgust written across their faces. Their cry woke Sunny who added a sleepy “Da-bla!” to the conversation.

“My sister means ‘deplorable’,” Klaus translated helpfully.

“Well, I suppose it’s not as bad as some of the guardians that were appointed to you,” Olivia replied with a shrug. “After that I was send to a school. It wasn’t terrible… for all intents an purposes I think it even was a very good school… I learned a lot there… it just wasn’t a home.”

“And you didn’t have any siblings,” Violet supplied, shuddering slightly. “You were all alone.”

For a second Jacques could see a world of hurt and pain on her face, but then she smiled again. “Well, that was then… I’m no longer alone now, am I?”

Barely daring to breath he watched as the Baudelaire children shuffled closer around her, taking her up in a circle. 

 

“You’re not.”

 

Sitting there, rooted to his spot, the truth hit him with as much painful clarity as a blow with a sledgehammer would have done and he wondered how he had ever missed the signs.

It all made sense now… her determination at saving the Baudelaires and the Quagmires, her surprise at finding herself recruited by the V.F.D, her anxiety at starting a new job and fitting in, the way she glowed whenever she was around the children…

She had been looking for a family as much as the rest of them had.

For months he had had felt faintly guilty about ripping her away from her safe, secure world, even if Prufrock perhaps wasn’t the happiest place to be, but now he understood how short-sighted he had been. He had focussed all of his energy and responsibility on the children, completely ignoring the fact that Olivia needed to be loved as well.

With a pang he remembered his wedding vows, the words he had spoken so earnestly all those weeks ago, despite their unusual circumstances.

That he would love and cherish her until his dying day.

He had done none of those things. Instead of loving her he had kept her at arms length, destroying most of their beautiful friendship in the progress and instead of cherishing her and finding a new way to show her every day what a beautiful and wonderful woman she was and how much he adored her, he had treated her as if she was nothing more than a random associate.

 

Kit had been right all along.

 

He was an utter idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever find yourself in Berlin, go visit the German Spy Museum there. You can find all the things mentioned (the bra too) on display there. 
> 
> The poem Olivia cited is by Edgar Albert Guest and called 'The Little Orphan'.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they get some unexpected and very unwelcome mail...

 

 

“I can’t do it… I’m still eight months behind on my studies, why did I ever think I would qualify for competing in an olympiad?”

Upon hearing the furious muttering, Olivia rushed into the library to find Klaus sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by three dozen flashcards laid out in front of him on the floor with military precision.

Recognizing his signs of stress, she lowered herself on the floor before asking: “What’s going on?”

Klaus’ head snapped up, the boy giving her a withering look. There was a deep frown between his eyes and his hair was tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it numerous times.

“I can’t do it,” he repeated miserably, his face flushed with frustration. “I have Olympiad practice in three days and I’ve been practicing for hours, but I can’t retain a single word. I’m going to be the laughing stock of the team!”

Olivia had learned rather early on that when Klaus was getting worked up about something, he needed someone who put the situation into perspective for him and helped him to analyze it. 

“That’s quite a collection of words you have there,”

“This is only twenty percent of the total amount of words that I need to memorize,” Klaus answered despondently. “I’ll never manage it… and I’m an idiot for thinking that I could…”

“You’re not a idiot,” Olivia told him firmly. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself again. Now, is competing in this Olympiad something that you want to do?”

“Of course it is!” Klaus replied without a second of hesitation, confusion written all over his face.

“There’s no ‘of course,’” Olivia rebuked gently. “This is either something you want to do, or something you’re forcing yourself to do… and there’s a difference there. So, think about it, do you really want to compete in the Olympiad?”

This time Klaus took a few seconds to contemplate his answer. Then he nodded slowly, some of the tension leaking out of him. “I do want to compete. I like learning new words… it’s something I used to do with my mother.”

Reaching out to squeeze his hand, Olivia smiled. “Then do it because you want to, because you enjoy it and not because you have to prove anything.”

Smiling back, the boy nodded. “You’re right… I used to love this…” a wry look passed over his face. “I think I would just enjoy the process more if I was actually able to remember the words.” 

Olivia eyed the spread of flashcards critically. “I think you’re trying to learn too many words at once…” With seasoned skill she gathered most of cards and put them aside, leaving only ten on the ground.

“These will keep until another time, let’s just focus on the ones on the floor first. Take your time to imprint them… I’ve never met anyone who has such a photographic memory as you, so once they’re inside your head, I’ll doubt they go anywhere. Then we’ll practice together.”

“All right,” visibly more confident, Klaus took up the first card and studied it for a long time. When he had memorized them all, he handed Olivia the deck. “I think I’m ready…”

“Okay, let’s go…” Pulling a card out, Olivia read: “Mayhem.”

Klaus squinted for a moment before he replied rapidly: “Mayhem, noun. Violent or extreme disorder; chaos.”

Olivia beamed at him. “Well done, let’s keep trying. They went through the pile of cards a few times, until Klaus was utterly convinced that he knew them all.

Leaning back against the couch, he sighed in relief. “Thank you… I know I still need to learn the rest, but at least I’ve made a start.”

“You can do ten more after dinner and leave the rest for tomorrow,” Olivia suggested. “You’ll be fine then.” Holding up the cards in her hands, she asked: “Shall we practice these one more time, just to make assurance doubly sure?” 

Grinning at her reference, Klaus nodded. Pulling a card from the stack, Olivia improvised the first random word that came to her mind: “Repugnant.”

For a second Klaus startled and blinked in confusion, then his eyes lit up. “Repugnant, adjective. A fourty-six course lunch with only salmon dishes.”

Delighted at how quickly he picked up on the game, Olivia snorted. “Very good, next one…” Pulling another card for dramatic emphasis she called out: “Strident.”

This time Klaus couldn’t hold back his laughter before he answered: “Strident, adjective. The sound vice-principal Nero makes when he attempts to play his violin.”

Bursting out laughing as well, Olivia handed him back the stack of cards. “You’ll do fine… you have nothing to worry about.”

 

 

* * *

When she returned home from the bookstore a few days later, holding Sunny in one arm and carrying the mail in her other hand, the smell of something warm and spicy wafted towards her as she entered the kitchen. 

“What smells so good in here?” she asked curiously, just as Jacques pulled a massive lasagna from the oven. 

After putting the oven dish carefully on the counter, he turned around, flashing her a warm grin. “I hope you’re hungry… we should be able to eat in a few minutes…”

Her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her like that and inwardly she shook her head at her own foolhardiness.  
Depositing the mail on the kitchen island she handed him Sunny who was already stretching out her little arms towards him, gurgling happily.

“Hello sweetheart,” he greeted her, hugging her close for a moment before swinging her above his head in one fluid motion, making Sunny shriek with excitement.

The sweet scene warmed her from inside out. He made such a wonderful father that she wondered not for the first time why it had taken him forty-two years to become one.

Just when she was about to step away, warm fingers gently curled around her elbow and when she looked up in surprise she found his brown eyes only inches away from her own.

“How was your day?” he asked softly, all of his attention focusing on her. 

“I uh…,” she stammered, feeling herself becoming flustered. “It was a pretty regular day… Larry stopped by…he’s trying to get a brochure published called _‘The last straw -and 1001 ways to survive with it…’”_

The way he kept gazing at her intently made her feel breathless and eventually her voice faltered. “That was everything really…” 

“I’m glad you’re home now…” he murmured, the tone of his voice velvet and deep.

A moment later a loud crash was heard and they both jumped apart, Olivia whirling around to see Violet rubbing her head, a perplexed expression on her face and a book open at her feet.

“Honey, are you all right?” Olivia exclaimed, rushing over to her.

“Yes… yes I am…” Violet replied, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I completely missed the cabinet… I’m reading this amazing book.”

Reaching down, Olivia picked it up from the ground. “ _The invention of Hugo Cabaret,”_ she read out loud.

“It’s wonderful!” Violet told her eagerly. “It’s about an orphan boy, but really it’s about the legendary filmmaker Georges Méliès. He was an inventor of sorts, although he mostly used his inventions to make movies… It’s so interesting!”

“Wasn’t he also a magician?” Klaus asked as he sat down on the table. 

“He was,” Violet replied. “But he used mechanics for most of his tricks.”  
Looking up at Olivia, she added “Just like you did with that crystal ball when you were posing as Madame Lulu.”

That had been a clever bit of trickery, Olivia realized as she handed Jacques the plates so that he could dish out the lasagna.

“Here’s a bit of interesting trivia for all of you,” he told them, once they were all seated around the table. “Georges Méliès actually designed that crystal ball.”

Violet gazed at him with her mouth open, her fork pausing halfway. “Are you saying that Georges Méliès was a V.F.D. volunteer?”

“He was in fact one of the very first,” Jacques replied. “Most of his movies are coded. There is on in particular, called ‘ _The Pillar of Fire_ ’ that was used often. It only contains a Vilkacis, a fowl-like bird and a demon. Whenever that particular movie was showed in the theater, every volunteer knew the very next movie would contain important information.”

“That’s amazing…” Violet muttered excitedly, her eyes sparkling. “He must have been a fascinating man…”

“I assume he was,” Jacques nodded. “His great-grandson is rather interesting too… His name is Gustav Sebald…. I”ll invite him around sometime.”

Klaus straightened as if strung by a wasp. “Wait a minute… he used to be Uncle Monty’s assistant… we watched one of his movies…”

 _“Zombies in the snow…”_ Violet exclaimed, I remember that!” 

From there on the children and Jacques continued to discuss various movies and the codes hidden in them, but Olivia only partly paid attention to it, her thoughts straying back to the strange encounter with Jacques earlier.

Since a week or so his behavior towards her had changed. He was seeking her out more, often asking about her day. And she had also caught him looking at her a few times. Whenever she had meet his gaze on such occasions, he’d looked away quickly, but not before she could see the look of sadness and regret on his face.

And every time it happened, it made her insides writhe with anxiety. She had barely adjusted herself to the new status quo, if he’d now decided that he actually regretted their marriage, she wouldn’t know how to deal with that.

On the other hand, if he did, it wouldn’t make sense why he was suddenly being so nice her.

Sighing deeply, she took another bite of her lasagna, the rich flavor spilling over her tongue.

Only two things she could be certain of: the man was an amazing cook and an unsolvable enigma.

 

 

* * *

Since he’d cooked, she offered to fetch the fruit they were having for dessert. As she passed the kitchen island, she noticed the mail she’d placed there earlier, a stark white envelop with the emblem of Mulctuary Money Management standing out. 

Distracted and apprehensive, she reached out to pick it up, slowly walking back to the dinner table, all thoughts of dessert forgotten.

“What have you got there?” Jacques asked immediately, leaning in to get a closer look at the envelop in her hands.

When she turned it around for them to see, Klaus and Violet immediately turned pale.

“That must be from Mr. Poe,” Violet said, a slight tremor in her voice. “What could he possibly want?”

With her pulse raising, Olivia shared a look with Jacques. ‘Only one way to find out…” she said, a lot braver than she actually felt. Hooking her pinkie inside the corner of the envelop she tore it open and pulled out a single sheet of paper that held a typed letter. 

Her eyes flew across the lines, her incredulity growing with each word that she processed, until she finally lowered the letter in disbelief. 

“Well?” Klaus asked urgently. “What does he want?”

“He wants to pay a visit…” Olivia replied slowly, her thoughts racing. With shaking fingers, she handed the letter over to Jacques, who took it from her and read it intently.

While Sunny wailed in dismay, Klaus all but exploded. “What business does that man have to interfere with our lives again? If it hadn’t been for his total incapacity, a lot of terrible things that have happed this year wouldn’t have happened!”

“Aya boo ah né!” Sunny cried, her blue eyes wide.

“I whole heartedly agree!” Klaus snapped, nodding furiously. “My sister says: ‘He’ll only come to bring trouble.”

“Why does he even want to come visit us?” Violet asked, her voice a great deal softer than that of her siblings. But the look of acute horror that had dawned in the girl’s eyes the moment Mr. Poe’s visit was mentioned broke Olivia’s heart.

“He writes that he and his family are taking a weekend vacation to a cabin in the Finite Forrest, this Friday,” Olivia explained gently. “On their way over there they plan on stopping here and staying for the night and continue their journey the next day.”

“This is what he writes,” Jacques continued:

  
_“The welfare of the Baudelaire children has always been my utmost concern and after the distressing events of the past months it would ease my mind greatly to see for myself if the children have at last overcome their wayward, vagabond tendencies and have found a home that could potentially become a permanent placement.’”_

“Our wayward, vagabond tendencies?” Klaus repeated incredulously. “He has some nerve!”

“But they don’t have to come, do they?” Violet asked quietly. “I mean, you can tell them we have a prior engagement or something, cant’ you?”

Instinctively, Olivia tended to agree with her, having no inclination herself whatsoever to meet the odious Mr. Poe again, let alone in her own house.

But when she looked over at Jacques, she caught his worried, pensive gaze. He gave her a little, defeated shrug, his eyes grave and Olivia’s heart sank as realization dawned on her… _‘potentially permanent placement.’_

“Listen here, kiddo’s,” Jacques began carefully. “I know you don’t want to see Mr. Poe and neither do Olivia and myself, but… there’s a catch… as much as we all dislike it, Mr. Poe still has some control over your future. Right now Olivia and I are you temporary guardians. In four months however, we can apply to the court to formally adopt you…

If that is something you want…”

Oliva felt her own breath hitch in her throat as he very quietly asked that last question, nervous tension written all over his face.

 

“Of course we want that!”

“We want to stay with you!”

“Awa be oeh!”

 

The three of them responded simultaneously and Olivia couldn’t help the tears that spilled over her cheeks at the children’s reaction.

“You are our fortunate intervention,” Violet said, equally tearfully. “You gave us a home again.”

Sunny garbled anxiously, stretching out her arms and Olivia took her from the high chair and cuddled her close, reveling the feel of her warm weight in her arms. 

“As the executive of your parents affairs and his previous involvement in your lives, a judge will want to hear is testimony,” she explained. “And both his good opinion and his bad opinion will have extensive consequences. If we refuse to welcome him and his family now… it might harm your adoption process later on.”

“You really think he’d try to take us away from you?” Violet asked in a small voice. 

Klaus made a sound that could almost be considered a rude noise.”Please… he is both the pettiest and the most oblivious man in the world!”

Jacques nodded gravely. “I agree with you there, Klaus. After all, ‘nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.’”

“Martin Luther King Jr. said that!” Klaus replied, his face brightening.

“He did and he was very right about that,” Olivia replied. “But you should all know this: Mr. Poe can blunder all he want, but Jacques and I will _never_ let him take you away from us. So let him come and let’s have a nice, polite visit to get it over with”

“Between the five of us, we can handle him,” Jacques added, holding out both of his hands. As if on cue, Violet took hold of his hand and her brother’s, while Klaus grasped for Olivia’s hand. After a split second she placed her hand in Jacques’, feeling his fingers closing around hers tightly.

The anxiety hadn’t completely disappeared from the children’s faces or from her own mind, but mingled with that was a new sort of determination and hope.

“I’ll contact Kit and Jacquelyn,” Jacques suggested. “It can’t hurt to have a few extra volunteers on our side and Jacquelyn can give us valuable inside information.”

“I’ll make a list of polite and harmless conversation topics,” Klaus added.

“I’ll try to have my invention finished before the weekend,” Violet said determinedly. “Just in case.” 

Olivia felt her heart swell with pride at the determination of her family. “And I’ll buy cough drops.”

 

* * *

That evening, when they were having their customary end-of-the-day cup of tea, Olivia could tell from the tense line of his shoulders and his subdued manner that Jacques was still fretting over something. 

“Penny for them?” she asked quietly. 

Her question seemed to shake him out of his thoughts and he cleared his throat before he spoke.

“I’ve been thinking about this visit of Mr. Poe… and I am worried… to him it seemed imperative that we were married before we could adopt the children.”

“Well, we are married…” she offered hesitantly, not sure where he was going with this.

For a second a soft smile lit his face, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “We _are_ married…” he repeated, his voice a little hoarse and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.

Then his expression sobered again. “But it is crucial that Mr. Poe’s has no doubt whatsoever about the validity of our marriage.”

“Why should he have any doubts concerning that?” Olivia asked bewildered.

“Well…” Jacques paused for a moment, his fingers nervously twisting the teacup in his hands around and around and to her surprise Olivia noticed that the tip of his ears were turning red. “‘m afraid the separate bedrooms might make him suspicious…”

“Why would… _oh…_ ”

Olivia cringed, furious at her own nativity. Of course that would be a problem. A newly wed couple didn’t sleep on opposite ends of the hallway. As soon as Mr. Poe took notice of that, all their chances of adopting the Baudelaire children would go up in smoke.

Worse, they might be able to fool Mr. Poe, but he was brining his wife too and she was shrewd like a magpie. She could already hear her shrill cry:

_“Wait until the readers of‘The Daily Punctilio’ hear about this!”_

Jacques shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his whole countenance screaming awkwardness, so she probably should say something.

“I see… “ she managed eventually. “I suppose that could be a problem.”

He nodded gravely. “For the sake of the children and to convince Mr. Poe, perhaps for one night we should… share the bedroom?”

She was sure he must hear the way her heart was beating loudly against her ribcage and she felt herself turning bright crimson.

“F-for the sake of the children, I think we could.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist the opportunity to write in Georges Méliès. 'The Pillar of Fire' is actually on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uF7ywg_L_ck
> 
> Also, I couldn't bear to let Gustav remain dead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Poe's stop by for a visit...

The rest of the week passed in a blur of preparations for the Poe’s visit and a general atmosphere of nervousness and despite their unity and constant reassurance, Olivia could tell that the children were on edge.

Violet had all but locked herself into the garage, working against the clock to finish her latest invention. She’d only confided to Jacques what she was trying to build and he’d been sworn secrecy. All he would let on was that it was something good.

Sunny was a great deal more fussy than usual and her babbling sounded much more snarky than it had in a long time.

Klaus was still studying extensively for the vocabulary olympiad with a sort of grim determination and from his drawn face and the dark circles under his eyes she could tell he wasn’t sleeping very well.

For herself, she’d be thrilled when the entire visit was over and done with.

Early on Friday morning a tired, but very pleased looking Violet stepped into the kitchen, carrying a box.

“It’s working,” she announced happily, her hair still tied up in a ponytail. “I’ve finally figured it out.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve spend all night working on it?” Jacques asked, slightly alarmed.

Violet shook her head, a pleased smile around her lips. “No, I woke up at five and then I just knew what I’ve been doing wrong all along. I’ve been using soft solder, but that messes up the magnetic energy, so now I’ve used superglue instead and it works just as well.”

“What have you been making?” Olivia asked, smiling at the girl’s enthusiasm and her curiosity thoroughly piqued.

When Klaus and Sunny had gathered around the table as well, Violet lifted a sizable pocket watch from the box.

“It’s called a ‘Viable Finder Device’, she announced proudly. “It helps you find people.”

“How does it work?” Klaus asked, interested. 

Violet showed them the display of the pocket watch. “It actually works like a compass,” she explained. “Look here…”

Placing the pocket watch on the table, she pulled another item from the box, a nice, but perfectly ordinary looking wrist watch with a brown leather band.

“Do you see this little button on the side?” she asked. “Normally you can pull it out and set the time. But I’ve adjusted it, so that you can also push it. If you do, it activates a magnetic pull.”

She handed Klaus the watch and waved in the direction of the hallway. “Why don’t you take the watch and walk to somewhere in the house… then push the button.”

Klaus did as he was told and Olivia watched with baited breath as Violet picked up the pocket watch again.

If this was what she was hoping it was, it would go a long way to solving the children’s fear of getting separated.

After about half a minute the hands of the clock began to swirl furiously until both of them settled on the direction of the hallway. Violet began to walk in that direction, closely followed by Jacques and Olivia, who was carrying Sunny.

Once they were into the hallway the hands started to swirl again until they pointed into the direction of the library.

Jacques chuckled. “We could have guessed that.” But then his face turned serious. “It’s working amazingly well, Violet. What’s is its reach?”

“I haven’t tested it to its limits yet,” Violet confessed. “But twenty miles should be doable.”

Klaus stepped out of the library, his face alight with excitement. “This is amazing… with this we can always find each other again, no matter where they take us!” 

Violet smile was both modest and pleased. “That’s the general idea.”

Staring at her adoptive daughter in wonderment, Olivia barely managed to wrap her head around her enormous talent.

“You’re amazing… you know that, don’t you?” she managed eventually.

Violet flushed bright pink at her words, but beamed with happiness. “I really wanted to make this… I hope we never need it, but I feel a lot better now that we have it.”

Looking at Klaus, she added: “The watch is for you, by the way. Jacques got us all something to activate the magnetic pull. The rest is in the kitchen…”

Raising her eyebrows, Olivia gave Jacques an arched look and he ducked his head with a grin. “When Violet told me of her idea I thought we could all use an artifact.”

Together they made their way back to the kitchen where Violet unpacked the rest of the box. Inside were two more wristwatches, one for Jacques and a smaller one for herself. For Sunny there was a small bracelet adorned with sparkling beads, one of them being the button to activate the Viable Finder Device. And being the little magpie that she was, she laughed her delighted, toothy laugh. 

“And this is what Jacques picked out for you,” Violet told her, handing her a a flat, square box. Feeling his eyes on her, Olivia opened the box with trembling fingers.   
Inside, draped on black velvet was a delicate gold bracelet with a single gold pendant shaped like a book.

Barely daring to breathe, she took the bracelet out of the box and admired it in the glow of the ceiling light, feeling tears prickle behind her eyelids.

It was the single most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen and she couldn’t believe he had picked it out for her.

“I-it’s beautiful…” she managed in a shaking voice. “I love it.”

“I’m glad you do…” his voice was warm and deep and when she looked up she found him looking at her with that same, soft look he’d used to look at her before. For a moment she felt all of the confusion and distance of the past months fading away and she smiled back at him. Then he broke their gaze, the expression on his face turning sad and the hope she’d felt evaporated just as quickly.

As he turned away to put on Sunny’s bracelet for her, Olivia fastened her own bracelet around her wrist, a spark of happiness still glowing within her. 

He might not feel he same way about her, but he had gone out of his way to give her something he knew she would like. Either way, she was going to treasure this bracelet.

“There’s a button on the back of the pendant,” Violet pointed out excitedly. “You just need to press it.”

Shoving her own, confused feelings down, Olivia reached out and pulled the girl into a hug. “You are so clever…”

“I do have a question though,” Klaus piqued up. “What if we get separated and say you and me are both in different locations. How will the Viable Finder Device work then?

“I’ve tried it out this morning in a small enclosure,” Violet replied. “The pocket watch will first respond to the closest object. Once the signal is turned off, it picks up the signal of the other device. But I’d like to run more tests this weekend over a larger distance.”

“How about we first get the Poe’s visit over and then go to Wuthering Moor on Sunday?” Jacques suggested. “We could all use something to look forward to.”

 

* * *

 

Olivia’s day at _Luminosity_ passed rather uneventful. She spend the morning putting together a display of Sci-Fi novels and filling out several order forms, while Sunny was leafing through cooking books, looking for inspiration for next week’s dinners.

A little after noon however, the bell above the door jingled, announcing a visitor. An elderly woman with dirt grey hair, leaning heavily on a four wheel walker shuffled inside.

“Good afternoon,” Olivia greeted her brightly. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for something…” the woman answered in a wispy voice, “but I’m not sure that you’ll have it.”

“Well, just tell me what it is you’re looking for and I see what I can do!” Olivia responded.

The woman looked around the empty shop briefly for a moment before looking at her with eyes that seemed unnaturally large behind her thick glasses.

“The world seems very quiet here.”

Immediately Olivia felt the twinge of excitement she always experienced just when she was about to be pulled into V.F.D. business.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a sad occasion,” she replied in a much quieter voice.

“I’m looking for blueprints of public buildings in the city,” the woman said in a hushed whisper.

“Blueprints of public buildings?” Olivia repeated, her eyebrows rising in confusion. “What sort of public buildings?”

“All sorts of buildings in the city that are open to the public,” the woman snapped back a hint of impatience in her voice.

“Oh… of course…” Olivia answered, slightly taken aback. She had learned quickly not to ask after the reason people needed certain documents, but there was something in this request that didn’t sit right with her.   
After consulting the card catalogue she was somewhat relieved to find that there was quite a collection of blueprints filed away at _Luminosity._

With a smile she turned around, surprised to see the woman standing quite erect, casually inspecting her nails, her shoulders pushed backwards and her chest puffing out. As soon as she saw Olivia however, she slumped down again, clutching the handles of her walker.

“You’re in luck,” Olivia offered. “We have quite a selection here. Are you looking for anything in particular? I have blueprints of the City Public Swimming Pool, City Hall, the mortuary and the yoga studio.”

“I want all of them,” the woman rasped. “Just wrap them up for me.”

“All right…” taking the blueprints from the filing cabinet, Olivia folded them in such away thatthey fitted exactly into a copy of ‘The Design and Construction of Reinforced Concrete Structures’, a book that looked so hideously boring from a mile away that nobody would ever bother to open it.”

“I need to write down your name,” she told the woman, pulling the register from a secret drawer underneath the counter.

“You don’t, I’m in VFD,” the woman replied, stuffing the book into an oversized bag she carried on top of her walker.

“I know, I’m a volunteer too,” Olivia answered pleasantly. “But I need to put your name into the register, so that we can keep track of our documents.” 

“You don’t understand,” the woman snarled. “I’m in Very Furtive Disguise… If I told you who I am, I would compromise the entire mission…”

“Oh… of course…” Olivia stammered, embarrassed by her gaffe. Even after six months, there was still so much she didn’t know about the organization she belonged to. She had never even heard of volunteers who were in Very Fugitive Disguise and she made a mental note to ask Jacques about it that evening.   
Still, it didn’t sit right with her to hand over such an extensive collection of blueprints without knowing who she was dealing with.

“Please?” she implored, giving the woman an apologetic look. “Of course I don’t want to jeopardize your mission, but should anything happen to you or to the blueprints…”

“All right! Fine!” The woman snapped, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “You can write down ‘Lorés Masque.’

One Olivia had written down her name and handed over the book, the woman took it and turned around without even bothering to say goodbye, leaving the shop at a noticeably shifter pace than when she’d entered.

“Well, that was weird…” Olivia muttered, staring at the door in puzzlement.

“A yie ah!” Sunny agreed emphatically and Olivia chuckled and picked her up from the table she was sitting on.

“My thought exactly! Well, how about we read another chapter of North and South?” she suggested.

When the toddler hummed in approval, Olivia picked up the novel and sat down in one of the cozy armchairs with Sunny in her lap.

“Well, where were we? Oh right… silly Mr. Thornton is still hopelessly jealous of the mysterious man he’s seen Margaret with and he’s about to say something very foolish to her…”

With her little girl in her arms, utterly caught up in the tragic love story between two people who cared so deeply for each other but were both too stubborn and too afraid to admit their feelings for each other Olivia quickly all but forgot about the strange encounter.

 

* * *

The Poe’s arrived at seven o’clock, right after dinner. During what had felt distressingly like a last supper, they had discussed their tactics for the evening and the following morning, Jacques being the only one feeling truly confident they could easily manipulate the banker’s family. 

Going from the assumption that Mr. Poe never really listened to anything the Baudelaires had said to him, they had decided to let him talk as much as possible about himself.

So far their approach was working remarkably well and Olivia would have been glad of it hadn’t it been for the fact that the Poe’s, all four of them, were the most annoying people she’d ever had the misfortune to meet.

As Klaus and Violet had given the Poe’s a tour of the house, Eleonora Poe had loudly criticized every aspect of it, while her two sons were constantly sharing derisive looks between them. The children had bravely gritted their teeth and remained quiet during it, but Olivia could practically see the steam coming out of Klaus’ ears. 

She quickly took over and ushered the Poe’s into the living room, announcing she’d go and make coffee and pulled they boy back as he was about to follow them with a long-suffering expression.

“I’ve never met people who grated on my nerves so badly,” she whispered conspiringly, “and I’ve worked under vice-principal Nero for seven years.”

As she had hoped, that got a bit of a laugh out of him.

“Go inside,” she whispered. “In about an hour or so, we can start phase two.”

 

In the kitchen she prepared decaf coffee for the adults and lemonade for the children, listening carefully to the conversation proceeding in the living room.

Jacques was inquiring after the dividend tax prognoses in a tone of voice that could have fooled even the greatest sceptic that he was genuinely interested and Olivia breathed a sign of relief as Mr. Poe divulged into a lengthy monologue.

Handing out the coffee and lemonade, she discreetly placed a box of tissues and some hand sanitizer in front of the banker, winching when he nevertheless managed to cough all over his surroundings. 

Once he was finally done talking about the ambivalence of shareholders, Mrs. Poe took over and spend the next forty-five minutes bragging about her children, their accomplishments, their hairstyles, her husband, his accomplishments, his bowler, herself and the Daily Punctilio.

It was exhausting and toe-curling and a good thing that nobody could understand Sunny’s comments, because Olivia could have sworn the toddler was disparaging the Poe’s non-stop.

Around nine o’clock Jacques yawned discreetly behind his hand and immediately Olivia could see the Baudelaire children perking up a bit. Moments later Violet yawned as well, a bit more obvious than Jacques, while Klaus slouched back on the couch, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

Jacques’ strategy was both simple and brilliant. Knowing that yawning was one of the most infectious things in the world, the five of them would start to yawn simultaneously and more repeatedly as the evening wore on, hoping to lure the Poe’s into believing that they were extremely tired as well and would prefer to call it an early night.

Yawning herself, Olivia stood and stretched and under pretense of bringing the coffee mugs and glasses to the kitchen she walked past the thermostat and turned it upwards another five degrees, making sure the living room would become sweltering hot in a matter of minutes.

When she came back both Jacques and Violet were yawning excessively, while Sunny - all pretends of subtlety gone - had simply dropped off to sleep on the couch.   
It took another five minutes of yawning and sighing before their ploy began to pay off. Poe started to yawn with a plethora of side noises that made Olivia’s stomach turn, but at long last even Eleonora’s head started to drop for a moment before startling awake again.

“I’m exhausted,” she announced, somehow managing to sound boisterous even in her fatigue. “I think it’s high time we all hit the hay.” 

“I’m sorry to cut such a pleasant evening short,” Jacques deadpanned, “but if you’re truly tired, that might be for the best.”

Behind the Poe’s back, he smirked at her and she couldn’t help but grin back. 

 

* * *

 

Getting nine people ready for bed was a bit of a production and by the time Olivia had changed into her nightgown and stepped into bed herself, it was already past eleven. Now that she didn’t have to worry about the Poe’s for a moment, her stomach was knotted with nerves for a whole different reason.

They hadn’t really discussed the particulars of tonight, but she was sure Jacques could show up any minute now and just the thought of it made her heart race.

Knowing full well that it was ridiculous, she had made some preparations for tonight, tidying up the room and putting fresh sheets on the bed. She might have also dabbed a bit of scented lotion behind her ears just in case.

Despite expecting him, when he knocked on the door, she still almost jumped out of the bed.

“Enter,” she called out, cursing herself both for the way her voice sounded like gravel and her stuffy choice of words.

The door opened slowly to reveal Jacques standing on the threshold, clad in dark blue pajamas that immediately made her mouth go dry.

“Hi…” she offered lamely.

“Hi…” he echoed, looking every bit as uncomfortable as she felt. “Can I come in?”

Oddly, his nervousness soothed her own somewhat and she gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

“Of course you can.”

“Good…” He stepped into the room and it was only then that Olivia realized he was carrying a spare blanket.

Upon entering the room, he immediately walked up to the large armchair in the corner of the room and sat himself down, spreading the blanket over his body.

Olivia watched his actions completely flabbergasted.

“What are you doing?” she managed eventually.

“Sleeping here,” he answered her matter-of-factly, looking somewhat confused at her question.

“In the chair?” she exclaimed.

He nodded, his brow furrowing. “Of course… I’ve slept in my taxi countless of times… this chair actually looks a lot more comfortable.

It was such a Jacques thing to do that Olivia almost laughed. Honorable, noble Jacques who wouldn’t make assumptions, even as the obvious solution was staring him right in the face.

It was so frustrating that it was maddening.

“Jacques…” she started, pinching the bridge of her nose. “you can’t sleep in a chair…”

“Do you have an alternate solution then?” he asked, and she noticed his hand fisting tightly into the blanket. 

Goodness, she really was going to have to spell it out for him, wasn’t she? Taking a deep breath, she forced the words out: “It’s ridiculous for you to sleep in a chair when there’s such a sizable bed available.”

He was looking at her as if she had set the sea aflame and Olivia felt her face heat up under his gobsmacked stare.

“You mean to suggest… that we could share the bed…?” he asked disbelievingly. “And you wouldn’t… mind?

Despite the fact that se felt like screaming, she managed to keep her face composed and to shake her head.

“Of course not… I know that you’re not going to jump my bones.”

Despite her self-control, that last entered was uttered with a teensy bit more frustration than she would have liked.

He winched at her words and shook his head ferociously. “Of course I won’t.”

He got to his feet again and first carefully folded up the blanket and placed it on the chair before making his way to the bed.

“Are you absolutely certain?” he asked again, his voice oddly hoarse.

 

Her heart was running a mile an hour and she was certain she was beet red, but she nodded nevertheless. “I’m sure, Jacques… we can share a bed together.”

 

“Alright…” pulling down the covers, he climbed into the bed and stretched out on his back, his arms rigidly at his side.

 

“I’ll put out the light then…” she said quietly, feeling incredibly self-conscious and nervous as she pulled on the chord of her bedside lamp and scooted down awkwardly.   
He was lookin pointedly up at the ceiling, but she knew he was hyper aware of every movement she was making.

 

Initially she mimicked his position, lying flat on her back, her arms pressed closely against her body.

 

“Sleep well, Jacques,” she eventually whispered quietly into the dark.

For a heartbeat he remained deadly quiet and then: “Sweet dreams, Olivia.”

 

After that silence just became this large thing hanging over their head. Olivia managed to stay in the same position for a few minutes longer, until her muscles began to ache with tension. With a huff she rolled over to her side, away from him and pulled her pillow lower.

 

‘It’s only one night,’ she told herself sternly. ‘You’ll be perfectly all right for just one night.’

 

Next to her, Jacques breathing had deepened and she realized he must be almost asleep already.

 

If he could fall asleep, so could see and curling up a little, Olivia closed her eyes and determined to do just that.

 

***

 

When she woke again the room was pitch dark and she was safe and warm, securely held in a pair of strong arms.   
For a minute she continue to doze, holding on to the lovely dream, but then her eyes snapped open as she realized what must have happened.

During the night Jacques had rolled over and he was now all but draped over her. Both his arms encircled her waist, one hand resting on her ribcage, the tips of fingers brushing the underside of her breast. His own chest was pressed firmly against her back and she could feel the warmth of his body through his pajamas and her nightgown.

His chin was resting against the side of her head, his breath stirring her hair and his legs were wrapped around hers, their feet intertwined. She was completely surrounded by his warmth and his scent and it was the most glorious feeling in the world.

Carefully she trailed her fingertips over his arms, admiring the strength of his biceps until he stirred behind her.

Holding her breath she froze, not daring to move again until he stretched against her before snuggling her closer.

If he were to wake up right now, he would be utterly mortified and the most appropriate thing to do now would be to ease herself out of his arms and spend the rest of the night in the chair.

=

She counted to ten slowly, soaking up his warmth for as long as she could before she tried to ease his arms way.

In response he only grunted into her hair and pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia contemplated her options. She knew from their time of traveling together that Jacques was an incredibly light sleeper. If she should try to disentangle herself from him, he would probably wake up and be absolutely horrified.

It might be better to keep still and wait for him to roll away from her on his own accord.

Nestling closer against him, Olivia put her hand over his and closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of his arms around her and how good it felt to be held like this.

For one night she could pretend that this was real. Pretend that she was loved and wanted.

 

If only for one night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the tables are turned...

It was only one o’clock in the afternoon and Jacques was already feeling utterly exhausted by the events of that morning.

Driving his car into the city at a leisurely pace he contemplated the series of astonishing events that had transpired that morning.

* * *

 

He had woken up from a beautiful dream in which Olivia was sleeping in his arms, snuggled into his embrace, both of her delicate hands clutching his own.

Not wanting to wake up just yet, he had pulled his dream-Olivia closer, buried his nose into her hair and had pressed soft, sleepy kisses on the crown of her head.

It wasn’t until she had made a purring noise that the embers of sleep that had clouded his mind began to evaporate and he’d realized to his dismay that he wasn’t dreaming in the least. He was completely wrapped around her, holding her tightly against his chest, his hands splayed over her ribcage and stomach.

Holding his breath, he eased away from her quietly, ignoring his bodily reactions to her close proximity. When he pulled his hands back, his fingertips grazed over the soft curve of her stomach and hips and he bit back a groan as he felt the warmth of her skin, even through a layer of cotton. Rolling onto his back, he lay there for a moment with his heart beating out of his chest as if he’d run a marathon, trying to get himself under control.

Next to him, Olivia, made a soft, adorably disgruntled little noise and rolled over as well, scooting closer towards him in her sleep and he all but leapt out of the bed. 

He needed to go and make it out of her bedroom before he embarrassed himself completely, or worse, make her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

Quietly exiting the room, he’d all but sprinted toward’s the men’s bathroom across the hall and locked the door behind him.

A very cold shower was very much in order.

 

* * *

Since he was up and awake and practically freezing by the time he came downstairs, he decided to start on breakfast. 

While he was toasting bread and scrambling eggs, Violet came downstairs, carrying Sunny on her hip.

“Good morning, girls,” he greeted them, handing Sunny a dish with sliced apples. “Are the Poe’s up already?” he asked.

“I heard them moving about,” Violet replied, her expression tense, starting to set the table for breakfast. “Jacques, if they are to stay until noon… shouldn’t we do something to entertain them?”

“They’re not going to stay that long,” he replied, unable to keep the grin of his face. He glanced at his watch and noticed that the large arm was slowly approaching half past seven. “Why don’t you turn on the radio right about…. now!”

At the grandfather clock in the living room struck, Violet turned the switch on the radio and second later an upbeat female voice filled the kitchen.

“Good morning to you on this wonderful Saturday! The world is very quiet here, but that’s probably because it’s practically still night. This is your very fervent DJ and we’re starting the show with an uplifting tune from the Bay City Rollers!”

Violet’s face scrunched in concentration before realization dawned. “Wait a minute… that’s Kit, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he confirmed. “Kit called in a favor from a friend at the radio station. Trust me on this one, the Poe’s will be on their way before nine o’ clock.”

Meanwhile the uplifting tunes of the Bay City Rollers were blaring through the kitchen and he lifted Sunny from her high chair and danced with her through the kitchen.

 

_I don't know what it is that makes me love you so_

_I only know I never want to let you go_

_Cause you started something_

_Oh can't you see_

_Ever since we met you've had a hold on me_

_It happens to be true_

_I only want to be with you_

 

Sunny giggled with delight, spreading her arms wide as he twirled her around and sang along with the lyrics.

 

_“I never knew that I could be in love like this_

_It's crazy but it's true_

_I only want to be with you”_

 

Mid-motion he bumped into someone and when he turned around he found that Olivia was only standing inches away from him and he froze, the words of the song dying on his lips as the memory of her warm, soft body in his arms not an hour ago came back so vividly that for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

“Good morning…” he managed eventually.

“Morning…” she echoed, her cheeks definitely more pink than normal. “You’re up early…”

“I thought I’d start breakfast…” he offered, unable to look away from her hazel eyes. Had they always been so bright?

She smiled at that, dimples and all. “Good plan…”

On his arm, Sunny bumped her forehead against his shoulder and he could hear her rather clear murmurings: “Frigie idioos”

“The Poe’s are coming downstairs,” Klaus spoke morosely and it was only then that he noticed the boy had entered the kitchen.  
Sure enough heavy, dragging footsteps were hold in the hallway.

From the corner of his eye he saw Violet pulling Klaus aside, presumably bringing him up to speed concerning the radio broadcast while he focussed his attention on the Poe’s who were entering the kitchen. 

The moment she stepped into the kitchen, Eleonora’s face wrinkled in distaste. “Contemporary pop music,” she said disdainfully. “How inappropriate for children.”

For a long moment an awkward tension filled the air as the song on the radio came to an end. Then there was Kit’s perky voice again:

  
“And here’s one for all the ladies who wonder if that one special man really wants you. In the words of the unparalleled Cher: _‘If you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in in his kiss. That’s where it is.”_

Another cheerful song filled the kitchen and Mr. Poe lengthily cleared his throat. “Something smells wonderful here.”

“Jacques made us all breakfast,” Olivia announced brightly. “Why don’t we all sit down?”

“Mr. Snicket, I must say I’m surprised,” Mr. Poe spoke, as he meticulously arranged his napkin on his lap. “I never took you for someone who was so sanguine about switching gender roles.”

When he noticed the not-related part of company staring at him with open mouths, he clarified: “Sanguine means that something doesn’t bother you.”

“We know what sanguine means,” Klaus snapped, the expression on his face thunderous.

“There’s no need for that look, Klaus,” Mr. Poe admonished him. “I am merely complimenting Mr. Snicket on his forward, feminist ways.”

If possible, the boy looked even more murderous and Jacques quickly put the plate with scrambled eggs in the middle of the table. “Well, since neither feminism nor sexism will feed us, dig in!”

Violet snorted loudly, quickly camouflaging it with a coughing fit which prompted Mr. Poe to say:

“That sounds like a very unhealthy cough, Violet. You should really see a doctor about that.”

An incredulous silence fell over the room which was soon broken by Kit’s voice.

“And now for the especially stubborn people in the audience, here are some wise words from the great Marvin Gaye.”

 

_I've been really tryin', baby_

_Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long_

_And if you feel like I feel, baby_

_Then, c'mon, oh, c'mon_

_Let's get it on_

_Ah, baby, let's get it on_

 

The rest of breakfast passed in relative peace, the Poe’s wolfing down their breakfast as if they hadn’t eaten in months and Jacques waiting with baited breath for Kit’s announcement.

The song was followed by the jingle that preceded the news and then again Kit’s voice:

“We’re interrupting this mornings’ program for some traffic communication. Due to roadwork Longandwinding Road to the Finite Forest will be closed off for all motorized vehicles from noon today until midnight.”

When Olivia’s eyes widened in realization he couldn’t resist but give her a quick wink.  
  
Her appalling taste in music aside, Kit was executing their scheme to perfection.

 

The effect of Kit's announcement on the Poe's was immediate. All thoughts of breakfast forgotten, they all scrambled to their feet in blind panic.

“I can’t believe our spontaneous, little family get together gets spoiled like this!” Eleonora exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her face, her bosom heaving while her husband dissolved into a choking coughing fit.

“Calm down, everybody…” he spoke calmly over the conundrum of noise. “There’s no reason to postpone your outing. It’s only eight o’ clock in the morning, if you leavenow, you’ll easily be able to reach the Finite Forest before noon, long before the roadblock becomes effective.

“It’s perfectly doable,” Olivia chipped in. “I’ll help you pack you things… children, will you prepare some snacks for the Poe’s for the road?”

“Of course!”

  
“We’ll get right to it!” An with a speed that defied physical principle the two eldest Baudelaires rushed towards the kitchen.

 

* * *

Within fifteen minutes the Poe’s were ready to leave and they all assembled on the driveway in front of the Townhouse, Mr. Poe making a great display of pompously shaking Jacques hand. 

“It’s been a pleasure staying with you, Mr. Snicket and it’s so uplifting to see how the children eventually managed to land themselves such a nice, stable home.”

Next to him he could feel Olivia all but vibrating with annoyance and he bit down his own irritation with the useless bureaucrat in front of him.

“We’re very happy to have them,” Olivia replied, her voice clipped. “They’re wonderful children.”

“Well…” Mr. Poe frowned disparagingly. “They are certainly wordy, but I don’t necessarily think that’s a good thing… after all, they’ve managed to antagonize many of their previous guardians that way. I’m surprised you’re handling them so well so far.”

Olivia inhaled nosily and when he looked aside her nostrils were flaring and her fists were clenched, her entire face radiating cold fury.

A very small part of him felt it would be the chivalrous thing to throw himself in front of Mr. Poe to protect him from her rage.  
The biggest part of him just wished there was popcorn.

“You have absolutely no idea just how remarkable these children are…” Olivia started, her voice low and quivering with anger. “They are kind and intelligent and resourceful and they’ve stayed true to themselves and everything they believed in through everything that has happened to them.”

She was slowly advancing on the banker, every step measured and control and despite her own small statue she seemed to be looming over the man as she continued. “It’s an honor and a privilege to take care of them and I… _we_ …” she shot a quick glance at Jacques, “are going to treasure every second we get to spend with them!” 

A ringing silence fell after her speech and after long, speechless seconds Mr. Poe swallowed with difficulty.

“Well… I’m so happy it’s all working out for you.”

Jacques felt incredibly pleased to notice that the man looked at his wife as if she had put the fear of hell into him and he reflected that if he hadn’t loved Olivia already, hearing her so passionately defend their children would have sealed the deal.

“Come along now boys, Pumpkin, you too… let’s get on our way.”

The entire Poe family scrambled into the car as if they couldn’t get away from the fast enough and Jacques had never been so happy to see the tail-lights of -an admittedly well maintained- car before.

Still breathing heavily, Olivia brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “I probably shouldn’t have done that…” she murmured, looking somewhat dazed.

The children approached, each of their faces filled with a look of awed happiness and he knew that that exact expression must have been mirrored on his own face as he watched how the children hurried across the drive-way to bury her in a tight hug.

 

* * *

The City Station was quiet when he entered and made his way to the main lounge. To his surprise he found both Kit and Jacquelyn sitting on one of the couches, chatting with each other. 

Well, that at least could be considered progress. 

“Jacques!” Kit rose to her feet and hugged him quickly before waving him off into one of the armchairs. “How did it go this morning?”

“Splendidly,” he answered, still smirking at the memory. “They bought it hook, line and sinker. Before half past eight they were well on their way… You were very convincing.”

“I should hope so,” Kit replied archly. “I spend ages picking out the songs and putting together a _convincing_ playlist.”

“So,” Jacques asked, his expression turning more serious. “Did you find out anything about Lemony?”

Immediately, Kit’s face sobered as well. “No… there’s a vague report that he spend some time in Tasmania, but I couldn’t get a definite conformation. So he might as well be anywhere.”

“He might be dead, like we’ve thought all along.” Jacques replied dejectedly.

“Honestly, I don’t believe that anymore,” Kit answered. “We never found a body… we all knew he was depressed about Beatrice, but none of us thought he’d be capable of harming himself… and we couldn’t have all be wrong about that… and then there are the flowers on Beatrice’ grave…”

“A great deal of people could have put those there,” Jacques answered, shaking his head. “Beatrice was still much loved and respected within the organization. And why would Lemony fake his own death? Why would he do that without even telling us?”

“Those are all very good questions to ask him once we find him,” Jacquelyn interfered. “Now, about that other matter…”

At her words, Jacques interest was immediately roused. “You have new information about QuigleyQuagmire?”

“We may have a lead…’ Jacquelyn replied slowly. “If he did survive the fire that destroyed the Quagmire’s home, he could only have done so if he hid in the secret tunnels. We’re currently checking the routes to see where he could have gone to… as soon as we’ve discovered something, I’ll let you know.”

“Make sure you do,” Jacques said, getting to his feet. “Those children need to be reunited.”

“Are you leaving already?” Kit asked surprise and Jacques shook his head.

“No, I’m headed for the gym… I want to get a workout in before I head home.”

“But… weren’t you cleared for active duty a few weeks ago?” Jacquelyn asked puzzled. “Why are you still going to the gym then?”

“Because he needs to do _something_ to relieve himself of all of that pent up tension,” Kit replied dryly. “Since he’s still too stubborn to tell his wife that he’s in love with her. On the bright side, once he stops being an idiot and finally gets in on with his wife, he will be absolutely ripped for the occasion.”

Sporadically there were moments he wished his twin would just keep her observations to herself, no matter how right she was. This was definitely one of them.

But instead of reacting to what she’d said, he turned his attention to Jacquelyn, smiling serenely at her.

“You’re looking lovely today, Jacquelyn.

“Eh… thank you…” she replied, blinking at him in surprise, while Kit just looked at him dumbfounded.

“I thought it would be nice if at least _a_ Snicket complimented her today,” he told his sister sweetly. “With idiocy running in the family and all.”

With Jacquelyn laughing softly at his words and Kit looking at him as if she was ready to kill him, he considered his work to be done.

“Ladies, I’m off to the gym”

 

* * *

Once inside the locker room he took off his leather jacket and placed it on the hook, his eyes immediately drawn to the slight bulge in the right pocket. 

Taking the small, square box out he sat down on the bench, carefully opening the lid.

When he’d gone to the jeweler earlier that week, shopping for items for Violet’s Viable Finder Device, apart from the book charm he’d also found the perfect wedding ring for Olivia.

The ring itself was simple, a round, citrine gemstone situated delicate band of gold. 

But with it’s warm color, brightness and elegance, it was everything that he associated her with.

 

Smiling softly he snapped the box shut and made his way over to one of the lockers to store it away carefully. 

 

* * *

By the time he got home, the children were in the living room either reading, playing chess or nibbling on celery. With the dreaded visit of the Poe’s behind him, Jacques could practically feel the house breathing a sigh of relief. 

The fire in the fireplace was cackling softly, the children were relaxed and happy and all that was missing from this perfect picture was Olivia.

When asked, the children told him that she was in the library and he quickly made his way over, somewhat surprised that she was keeping to herself like that.  
When he neared the library he heard the sound of heels clicking furiously on hardwood floors and when he peeked around the door, he found that Olivia was stalking through the room, painstakingly putting the books of every separate shelf in perfect order.

Carefully he opened the door further and stepped inside and softly called her name. “Olivia…”

She whirled around as if he had shouted, her face flushed and her eyes wide with panic.

Worry immediately crawled at his chest and he quickly made his way over to her. “What’s the matter?”

Up close he could tell that she was almost hyperventilating, her eyes glassy with tears. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?” she asked hoarsely.

Getting alarmed himself over her distressed state now, he forced himself to remain calm. “What could you have possibly ruined? Olivia, what’s going on?”

“I yelled at Mr. Poe this morning!” she exclaimed, looking as wretched as if she was confessing to committing a murder. “I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that, but when he said those horrible things about our children… I just…”

She took a deep breath that ended in a sob. “When the court hearing comes, he’ll make sure the judge knows that I’m unfit to be a parent… they’re going to take the children away and they’ll be on their own again… and then I’ve failed them…”

“Olivia, stop it!” It came out a lot harsher than he’d intended but he couldn’t listen to her self-reproach a second longer.  
She broke of mid-word to dissolve into tears and he did the only thing he could think of. Pulling her into his arms, he held her close and rubbed her back as she cried, whispering soothing nonsense into her hair as she cried herself out.

When she had eventually calmed down a bit he pulled back a little. “None of those things is going to happen,” he told her firmly. “No judge in their right mind is going to take the children away from someone who cares so much for them as you do.”

“But I antagonized Mr. Poe…” she started to protest. 

“Well, technically, you didn’t say anything that could be considered as an insult to his character,” he answered, reaching into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief, which she took gratefully. “You only told him how much you love Violet, Klaus and Sunny… “

She sighed, shaking her head. “I should have kept my composure… I shouldn’t have let my feelings get the better of me.”

Very much aware that he was still having his arms around her, but reluctant to let her go, he risked taking the handkerchief from her hands to dab away the last tracks of her tears.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured her. “If anything, you’ve let the children know that they are loved… that is never a bad thing.”

As he’d hoped, that argument got through at last.

“You’re right,” she said, a hint of a smile appearing. “The children should know that. Nothing is worse than growing up and feeling like you’re an inconvenience to everyone around you.”

His heart clenched at what she’d unwittingly revealed with her words and he cursed himself for wasting so many months, keeping her at arm’s length.

Olivia took another deep breath, some of the tension slowly evaporating. “Sorry for blubbering all over you,” she offered slightly embarrassed.

“Don’t you dare to apologize for that,” he told her firmly, his whole body aching when she stepped away from him.

A thought occurred to him then and he looked at her quizzically. “Have you been worried about this all afternoon?”

“It started right after you left,” she admitted, smiling ruefully. “The more I thought about what I said, the more worked up I got… I told the children I needed to do some re-shelving… I didn’t want to upset them as well.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?” he asked, his mind reeling “I would have come home straight away!”

“Oh… I… I didn’t think about that,” Olivia replied, and from the slightly astonished look on her face he could tell she genuinely hadn’t considered the option. “You were meeting Kit… I didn’t want to bother you.”

He resisted the urge to shake her and then kick himself for making her think that he could ever feel bothered by something that was upsetting her.

He hadn’t been much of a husband to her, but if it was up to him he was determined to change that.

“You can always call me,” he vowed. “Not just only when something involves the children, but you as well… I want to know!” 

She blushed at his words, but her smile was radiant. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he told her softly. The urge to pull her close again and to tell her how much he loved her was overwhelming. 

 

Tonight.

Tonight he’d tell her. 

 

* * *

Having survived the Poe’s visit, they celebrated that evening with cheese fondue. Gathered around the table, slowly dipping chunks of bread and bits of vegetables into a boiling pot of Swiss cheese, Jacques contemplated that life simply didn’t get better than this. For one evening he allowed himself not to worry about Esmé Squalor and her henchmen still being on the run, or the fact that Quigley Quagmire hadn’t been discovered or if his own brother was still alive. For one evening he simply soaked in the happiness of simply being with his family. 

With the Poe’s visit behind them it seemed like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. And with Olivia’s fierce declarations of how much she cared for them, all three of them seemed to be just that bit more secure.

Olivia herself was radiant, her face glowing in the light of the kitchen and the flame underneath the fondue. Whether she was talking with the children about the latest book they’d read or the projects they were working on, of feeding Sunny bits of carrot, smothered in cheese, her eyes were sparkling and he had never been more mesmerized by anyone in his life.

 

* * *

Once the children had gone to bed and the dishes had been cleared away, he prepared tea for the both of them and they sat down at the kitchen island. 

“It’s been quite a day,” she remarked softly and he nodded absent-mindedly, trying to figure out a way to say what he was about to say. 

“Olivia…” he started eventually. “There’ something I need to discuss with you.” 

Immediately he hated the way the words sounded, as if he was about to breech a difficult topic. And her suddenly sober expression only increased his vexation with himself.

“That sounds ominous…” she ventured carefully.

“I should hope it’s nothing too dreadful,” he replied flippantly and then he steeled himself. He could fret about this for weeks to come, but procrastinating wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He’d waited long enough, it was time to tell her.

“I just wanted to say,” he said, starting again. “That when we first met and during the time when we were looking for the children, I have felt at times that there was something between us… a spark, if you will… At the time I thought it was highly inconveniently…”

He was making an utter hash out of this, he realized as he listened to the words that were coming from his own mouth.  
And the fact that Olivia had gone pale to her lips only confirmed it.

“Jacques…” she started, her voice quivering. “Before you say anything further, there’s something you should know…”

Taken aback by her interruption, he nodded slowly. “Of course, what is it?”

“I will admit that when we first met I may have given off the suggestion that I thought or even hoped that there was going to be something more between us…” Olivia started with difficulty, never really looking him into the eyes. “And I understand how that might have made you feel.”

The implication that she did have feelings for him caused his heart to expand in his chest and for a few moments that was all that registered with his brain.

Then he became aware of the fact that she was still talking.

“I want you to know though that any… silly notions I may have entertained in the past are completely over now. 

You’re my best friend and I’m so happy to raise the children with you, but those are the extent of my feelings, I promise you.”

 

The truth hit him harder than Olaf’s crowbar could have ever managed.

 

She was trying to let him down gently. Whatever feelings she may have had for him in the past, she had completely moved on from them now. And she was trying to spare him the embarrassment of doing something incredibly stupid like confessing his love for her.

She had cared for him once, but she didn’t anymore and he had no-one to blame for that, but himself.

His blood was pounding in his ears, bile rising in his throat as the full implications of her words filtered through his brain.

She didn’t want him anymore.

Then he became aware of the fact that he hadn’t spoken yet and that Olivia was gazing up at him with anxious eyes.

“I… that’s good to know.” To his own ears, his voice sounded endlessly tired and defeated. His throat was closing up and eyes were stinging and suddenly the room was too warm and too oppressive.

There was nothing else to say. He couldn’t make her uncomfortable by declaring his feelings now,after all, it wasn’t her fault that he had single-handedly managed to destroy every affection she’d ever felt for him.

She gave him a small, hesitant nodbefore looking down at her feet. “I”m glad we got this sorted out.” Her voice sounded oddly forlorn, but he was feeling too wrangled to really pay attention to it.

There was a full cup of tea in front of him, but staying in her presence any longer would only torment him further.

“I-I’m rather tired… I think I’m going to call it a day…” he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. 

“Yes, it’s been a long day,” she agreed quietly, gathering their cups. “I think I’m going to tuck in as well…”

“Good night…” He was so close to tears that his voice came out like this strangled thing and if he didn’t want to create a scene, he had leave right now.

 

Without saying another word, he turned around and bolted out of the room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the plot thickens...   
> I took some liberty with the original storylines (since this story is already completely AU to begin with) I've changed a few things involving the schism, Olaf and Esmé's backstory and the involvement of Bertrand and Beatrice.

With shaking hands Olivia removed the pins from her hair, letting the chestnut locks fall out of her bun and across her shoulders. She could hardly see what see was doing though the curtain of tears that were obscuring her vision and it was only because she had years of practice that she could carry out her night-time ritual without tangling it up.

Avoiding to look at her own reflection in the mirror she blew her nose in a tissue and then pulled another from the box to dry her face.

It was to no avail. Barely had she managed the wipe the tears away from her cheeks, or new tears started to trickle down.

Giving up, she threw both tissues in the wastebasket and crawled into her bed. Curling up underneath the blankets, she buried her face into her pillow and inhaled deeply, immediately breaking down in sobs again.

The bed still smelled of him, a faint, musky scent of sandalwood and leather and she couldn’t believe that it had only been last night when he had laid her next to her and had held her in his arms later that night.

It was completely ridiculous and she was very much aware of that, but after the gut-wrenching conversation they’d hand half an hour ago she felt once again as if her heart was shattering.

It was a stupid thing. Nothing about tonight’s conversation changed the status quo. They were still married. They were still going to raise the children and be a family together. They were still friends.   
If anything, after their talk this afternoon she should feel happy and secure in the knowledge that she could alway ask for his support when she needed to, that he would always be willing to help her.

She hadn’t learnt anything tonight that she didn’t already know. He _had_ picked up on her crush on him and he _did_ think it was inappropriate. And after her display of emotions that morning he was probably worrying that he would be next in line to feel the brunt of it and he’d been gently trying to let her know where he stood.

Her stomach turned as she remembered her outburst of that morning and how close she’d come to jeopardizing their chances on adopting the children, even despite Jacques’ reassuring words.

Mr. Poe was a petty, small-minded, prejudiced little man who had brought the Baudelaire children nothing but ill fortuneand heartache and she wouldn’t put it beneath him to advise a judge to take the children away, simply because he was affronted by something she had said.

The whole incident had shook her to her core, making her painfully aware of how her feelings had complicated things for the last couple of months.  
She’d told herself all along that she had accepted the fact that Jacques wanted nothing more than a strictly platonic relationship with her, but had she really?

The fact that she was currently crying her eyes out very much contradicted that notion. With his easy acceptation of her assurance that she was over her feelings for him it had felt as if all her hopes and dreams regarding them were now truly and unequivocally crushed.

Hopes and dreams that she had nursed and treasured for months, despite her claiming - even to herself- that they were long buried. 

It was time for her to pull herself together and to stop letting her feelings run her life.

Jacques was a wonderful friend and a great father-figure to their children. She had a home now, a family. Growing up at boarding school she’d often longed for those exact things and he made all of those dreams come true.

It was time she started to appreciate what she had, instead of mopingover what would never be.

 

* * *

The next morning she put on a bright outfit and a smile before making her way downstairs, determined to be collected and cheerful. 

She found Jacques at the kitchen island, sipping ink black coffee. 

 

“Good morning,” she chirped, proud of the fact that her voice only did catch a tiny bit at the end. 

 

“Morning…” he grunted, barely looking up at her.

 

The behavior was so uncharacteristic for him that she felt instantly worried. “Are you feeling all right?

 

“Headache,” he replied shortly, putting down his coffee. “The children should be down soon, I’ll start on breakfast.”

 

“Why don’t you sit down?” she suggested instead. “I can make breakfast… were you going to do oatmeal?”

 

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” he replied, making his way over to the counter.

 

“Jacques…” stepping in his way, she looked up at him. “I can…” Her breath caught as she saw the haggard expression on his face and the dark lines underneath his eyes.

 

“That must be some headache,” she said softly. “You look as if someone dealt you a great blow.”

 

“That about sums it up,” he muttered under his breath and she frowned. “I’m sure we have painkillers around somewhere… I’ll have a look. Meanwhile, you are going to sit down and read the paper or something and let me worry about breakfast.”

 

He opened his mouth as if he was about to protest, but she cut him off before he could start. “Sit!”

 

Still looking glum, he yielded. “No painkillers, though,” he bargained. “I just got off the stuff.”

 

“No painkillers,” she agreed, privately thinking that he was being far too severe on himself. “I’ll get you some water, sometimes that helps to alleviate a headache.”

 

While taking care of the water and mixing the oatmeal with the milk she thought to herself that this was the attitude she should have adopted all along. She was looking after him and after the children without entertaining delusory hopes in the meantime.

It would take some adjusting, but eventually everything would be all right again.

 

Her musings were disturbed by the children coming downstairs and as soon as they found out about Jacques’ headache, they were all consideration.

 

“I know I promised we’d go to the Wuthering Moor today,” he said apologetically once they had finished breakfast, “but I need to go to the City Station today… How about we go next weekend instead?”

 

Since outside the rain was pelting against the windows, both Violet and Klaus were little bothered by the raincheck, but Olivia frowned.

Since a few weeks he was back to active V.F.D. duty and especially during the past week he’d been called for extra rides frequently at all sorts of ungodly hours. And with the Poe’s visiting them, his weekend hadn’t been relaxing either.

 

“Do you really need to go in today?” she asked gently. “Can’t you call to tell them you’re not coming?”

 

“Of course I can’t,” he snapped, his tone harsh and cold and unlike anything she’d ever heard himuse before. “It may have escaped your notice, but there’s still a child missing.”

 

The kitchen became eerie quiet as if a chill had settled over it and from the corner of her eyes Olivia could see the children, frozen to their spots, their eyes wide and upset.

 

Jacques himself seemed taken aback by his outburst and Olivia felt as if he’d punched her, the unjust accusation ringing in her ears like a stinging blow.

 

“I’m a volunteer… you know that…” he said, much quieter.

 

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to remain calm, for the children’s sake if nothing else. “I’m very aware of that,” she replied, her voice wavering only a tiniest bit, but never once breaking eye-contact.

“But I also know that you’re not the only volunteer. Others are looking for Quigley as well.”

 

He sighed, his posture still tense.

 

“I _need_ to go.”

 

There was a finality to his voice and as he turned around and stalked out of the room, Olivia sank back in defeat.   
Looking at the children and noticing their still nervous expressions, she plastered a smile to her face, hoping it was convincing.   
. “How about we set up camp in the library today?”

 

 

* * *

In the days that followed, the odd, tense atmosphere in the house continued. Jacques often came home late, still taking graveyard V.F.D. shifts and when he was home, he was quiet and reticent. 

Of course the children picked up on his strange mood and were starting to become rather withdrawn as well. Gone were the lively conversations at dinnertime or cosy evenings spend in the living room or the library. Instead a stifling atmosphere had settled over the house like a heavy blanket, snuffing out all of its warmth and comfort.

And by the time Wednesday rolled around, Olivia was ready to pull out her hair in frustration, the stupid thing being that none of it made sense.   
After her talk with Jacques on Saturday, she’d expected him to be relieved and pleased that the issue of her unsuitable feelings for him was now resolved. But instead he was brooding and acting withdrawn and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why he was so upset with her.

As far as she could see, she had told him exactly what he had wanted to hear and she had no clue how to fix the predicament they were in. If assuring him that she no longerhad those feelings for him wasn’t enough to reassure him, what would it take then?

There was a gulf forming between them and it scared her more then anything ever before, including Olaf’s pit of hungry lions.

Were it had once been the easiest thing in the world to talk to him, she now hardly knew what to say when he came home late at night, looking absolutely exhausted. He barely looked at her anymore these days, often just muttering a quick greeting before dashing out of the room again.

 

* * *

That Wednesday, on her day off, she had woken to a quickly scribbled note on the kitchen island, telling her that he would be out of the city all day, checking up on a lead on Quigley’s whereabouts. After she had seen Violet and Klaus off to school, she’d taken Sunny to the library where she’d spend the whole morning pouring over _‘The History of Secret Organizations’,_ trying to find a reference to the practice of Very Furtive Disguise. The encounter with the unusual volunteer last week still irked her, as well as feeling ignorant about something that was so essential to the V.F.D, but to her great frustration, she couldn’t find any mention. 

Even Klaus, who had virtually read everything concerning the V.F.D. had been unable to trace the VFD. With things so strained between them, she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to talk to Jacques about it and the faint sensation of unease refused to settle, leaving her feeling jittery.

What she needed was to get some exercise, an hour or two in the pool, swimming lapses with Sunny in her arms, focussing only on getting her body to move through the water for a while, distracting her from her worries.   
But the City’s pool was closed for a month, due to maintenance work, so here she was, stuck at home with her dead-end research and a failing marriage.

 

* * *

That evening Jacques didn’t come home for dinner and she ate with children in silence, acutely aware of their worried faces and oppressed moods. She tried to be upbeat, asking about their days and their projects, but all she received in reply were listless, mono-syllable answers. After dinner both of them hurried to excuse themselves, Klaus claiming that he needed to study for the upcoming vocabulary olympiad and Violet disappearing into the garage to work on her current invention. 

Even little Sunny was quiet and grumpy as she put her to bed, barely reacting to the story she read her and when Olivia returned to the empty, lonely kitchen she was entirely fed up with the situation.

Something would have to give. Whatever problems she and Jacques might be having, right now it was affecting their children and that was unacceptable, so she resolved not to go to bed that night before she had hashed everything out between them.

If he was angry with her, let him be angry. She would talk until she was blue in the face convincing him that whatever feelings she might have had for him once were now truly and completely over. And for the first time since meeting him, she felt like she might actually get over those feelings for real.

It just wasn’t worth it, pining after a man who wasn’t interested in her and hurting her family in the progress.

When the lady of the adoption agency had told her eight-year-old self that they wouldn’t continue to look for new guardians for her, but instead would place her into a school, she had explained that some people just weren’t suited for a family.

And for many years she had believed that and resigned herself to the fact that she would live her life surrounded by her books and literary references only.

And then the Baudelaires had crossed her path and she’d seen that same loneliness and sense of being adrift in a world full of evilness and callousness, that she recognized so well in their eyes. As unconventional as it might be, they were her family now. And whether people thought she was suited for that or not, she’d never let go of them without a fight.

Making a pot of strong tea, she sat herself down in the kitchen and stared at the door, willing him to come home and talk to her.

The hours passed and the clock was already striking half past eleven when the door from the garage to the kitchen finally opened and he staggered in, looking absolutely exhausted.

 

“Hey…” he murmured wearily, surprise clearly written over his face. “You’re still up?”

 

“I’ve made you tea,” she told him, indicating the fresh pot she’d just brewed.

 

“Thank you…” He sank down heavily on one of the bar stools and poured himself a cup, gulping down its contents in one go.

 

He looked like he was ready to drop off any second and for a moment her resolve faltered. He'd probably had a hell of a day and coming home to a wife who demanded a conversation was without a doubt the very last thing he was looking forward to.

 

But if they didn’t talk now, when would they? How far could they drift apart before the distance between them became unsurmountable?

 

“Jacques…” she started quietly, summoning her courage. “We need to talk…”

 

He flinched at her words, his shoulders tensing even more and he put down the cup with a soft thud as he draw a deep breath, steeling himself.

 

“I suppose you’re right.”

 

His tone was filled with apprehension, which only fueled her nerves further. He looked absolutely miserable and her heart clenched at the thought that perhaps they were in even deeper trouble than she’d originally believed.

 

“Things haven’t been right…” she continued, speaking with difficulty around the lump in her throat. “And I don’t know… I don’t know if you’re angry with me or disappointed… or if there’s something else that’s troubling you… but I feel like we’re breaking and I don’t know how to fix it…”

 

With her heart pounding she waited for his reply, readying herself for anything he might have to say to her, but to her surprise he only stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

 

“Why would I ever be angry with you?” he asked, absolutely gobsmacked. The tiredness had left his face and he was gaping at her as if he was seeing her for the first time in days.

 

Olivia shrugged, some of the tension leaking out of her. “You seemed so distant these last couple of days,” she explained softly. “Like you didn’t want to be anywhere near me… I thought that perhaps I had said, or did something to cause that…”

 

It was as much as she dared to hint at their conversation last Saturday. If something was bothering him, this would be his opening to tell her so and she awaited his answer with baited breath.

 

Across from her, his face paled and he sagged.   
“Olivia, you did nothing wrong… absolutely nothing…” his voice was heavy with remorse and his eyes pleaded with her.

 

“If anything, it’s me… I feel like everything I touch is crumbling to dust and no matter how hard I try, I keep failing…”

 

_“What?_ ” Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn’t been this bound of self-reproach. Claiming one of the empty bar stools for herself she willed to get him to look at her.

 

“Jacques, what are you talking about?”

 

He shrugged dejectedly. “Everything really… Because of my own stupidity I’ve been out of commission for weeks… and now that I’m finally allowed to volunteer again I can’t seem to catch a break. I’ve been chasing after Quigley for two weeks now and so far every lead turned out to be empty.   
I used to be good at this… And now there’s a boy all alone in the world and every day I fail to find him is a day I’m failing him…”

 

During his rant his voice had progressively become more bitter and the amount of self-deprecation in his last words broke her heart.

 

“You were out of commission because two pieces of cretin ambushed you and almost killed you,” she told him firmly. “And I still don’t know how you managed to walk away from that, but you did. And then you came after me and the children, even though you were so injured that you could barely move. You saved all of our lives that night at Caligari…

 

And as far as Quigley is concerned, I know how much you want to find him, we all do… but so far he has managed to evade all volunteers… and there’s a small army out there looking for him. This isn’t just on you.”

 

He gave her a rather helpless look. “He’s thirteen years old… how does he manage it?”

 

“Children these days are smart…” she said with a little smile. “You should know… you’re currently raising three of them… And Quigley doesn’t know who to trust… he doesn’t know anything about the V.F.D. or it’s volunteers. He’s probably trying to keep himself safe.”

 

He nodded slowly, his shoulders relaxing a little. “That’s my theory as well. Over the past few weeks, various volunteers have caught glimpses of him, but whenever someone went to investigate, he was already gone.”

 

“Where did you go today?” Olivia asked, glad that she had managed to get him to open up.

 

“I went to the house of Montgomery Montgomery,” he answered. He was a good friend of the Baudelaires and the children’s official guardian. Bertrand and Beatrice had arranged for the children to go to him, but Olaf murdered him eleven months ago… Montgomery left the house to the V.F.D. It’s been empty ever since his death, but being watched constantly. Two separate volunteers have reported seeing Quigley there… today I combed through the entire place, including the tunnels unearth the house, but I found trail nor trace of him. I can’t even say with any certainty if he’s been there at all… if he did, he has covered his tracks well.”

 

“What do you think?” she asked.

 

He hesitated momentarily before nodding slowly. “If there’s ever a place to conceal yourself, it’s Montgomery’s home… I think he’s still there, but keeps himself completely out of sight.”

 

Olivia tried to remember everything Duncan and Isadora had ever told her about their brother when they’d still been at Prufrock.   
“Apparently, Quigley is a great cartophile…” she said slowly. “Do you think it’s possible he has managed to get his hands on a map of Montgomery’s home? That would explain why he’s able to hide himself so well…”

 

For the first time that evening, Jacques’ face lit up. “You might be on to something… that’s definitely a possibility. I’ll make some calls tomorrow, perhaps there’s a duplicate of that map at V.F.D. headquarters…”

 

He gave her a fond smile. “You sure know how to find something, don’t you?”

 

Feeling herself blush, she grinned back. “I just hope I’m right.”

 

Becoming serious again, she gave him an inquisitive look. “Is there something else that is bothering you, apart from Quigley?”

 

For a few seconds he remained completely still and then he looked at her, with a world of sadness in his dark eyes.

 

“My brother…” he said simply.

 

“Lemony?” she breathed, hardly daring to say his name out loud.

 

He winched and rested his elbows on the counter of the kitchen island. “Are you sure you want to hear the whole sordid tale?” he asked warily.

 

“Yes,” she replied at once, her voice strong. Whatever this sordid tale entailed, it was causing him a great deal of pain and she could practically see the weight he was shouldering.

 

“You know about the schism that happened almost thirty-five years ago?” he started and when she nodded he continued.

 

“As the years went on, the schism became deeper, dividing more and more volunteers. About twenty years ago, Olaf and Esmé became the most notorious volunteers who turned their backs on the V.F.D. tradition.

Around the same time Esmé acquired the sugar bowl. To this day no one at our side of the organization really knows what exactly is _in_ that sugar bowl or what kind of power it holds, but we became very quickly aware of the fact that once Esmé had it in her possession she started fires wherever she went.

 

You see, the sugar bowl wields some kind of power and Esmé seemed to control it, attracting all kinds of followers, including Olaf. Olaf had always sought fame and glory and his own unique brand of evilness combined with Esmé’s hunger for power made the pair of them a ferocious duo.”

As he was talking, his eyes got this far-away look as if he was re-living the events all over again and Olivia was absolutely mesmerized by his voice and his story.

 

“It was Beatrice who decided that they needed to be stopped and that all the means justified the ends. So, about twenty years ago she devised a plan to steal the sugar bowl from Esmé. Because for all of her cleverness and power, Esmé had one great weakness and that was Olaf. In her own, twisted way she really loved him and she was prepared to follow him wherever he went.

 

One evening, when Olaf and Esmé were staying the night at Olaf’s parents, Beatrice broke into their cottage to steal the sugar bowl. But while she was on her way out, both Olaf and Esmé woke up… In an attempt to divert them and to erase her own tracks, Beatrice started a fire which burned down the cottage completely.

Beatrice, Olaf and Esmé managed to escape the flames, but Olaf’s parents were killed that night…

They were both old and frail and never stood a chance against the blaze. They died in their sleep… and I’ve always been thankful that at least they didn’t suffer.

 

They were simple, good people… they didn’t deserve to end like that.”

 

Jacques paused for a moment and Olivia wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “I never thought I’d say this…” she whispered sadly. “But poor Olaf…”

 

“He snapped that night,” Jacques answered, taking up the story again. “He’d been on a dark and dangerous road for a long time already, but in that night he reached the point of no return. I think that with his parents every last bit of empathy and nobility in him died as well. From that moment on he hated Beatrice with a hot, burning passion.

 

Meanwhile, Beatrice was horrified by the aftermath of her actions and in her panic she fled to Lemony, begging him to help her.

At this point you should know that my brother loved… loves Beatrice with dedication that runs through his very blood. From the first moment he saw her - and he was eleven at time - she has been his sun, the axis around which his world revolves. He would do anything for her and Beatrice was well aware of that.

 

So when she came to him, Lemony didn’t hesitate for a moment. He took the fall for her and went back to the cottage that same night to place evidence that would incriminate himself. Then he took the sugar bowl and went into hiding.

 

The next day all hell broke lose, but Lemony had done a very thorough job and nobody, not even volunteers of the V.F.D. suspected Beatrice for a moment.   
Olaf and Esmé went underground as well and the one thing I never understood is why they never tried to expose Beatrice. Why they went along with Lemony’slie.

 

Beatrice escaped justice, she was never tried for her involvement in the fire or the death of Olaf’s parents, but she couldn’t escape her own consciousness and I believe that the guilt she has felt since that fateful night has soured every moment of every day since.

 

For about three years both Kit and I barely heard anything from Lemony. It was only years later that I learned that he’d been in Peru for that entire time.

Meanwhile Beatrice resigned from the V.F.D., feeling that she could no longer be a volunteer after betraying its ideals so thoroughly.

 

Then Lemony made his way back in secret. He had build a life for himself in Peru and he was still hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Beatrice. He traced her down and begged her to marry him. Initially she consented, but the very next morning she returned his ring, along with a letter of two hundred pages, explaining why she couldn’t marry him.

 

Three months later however, she did marry Bertrand Baudelaire, a scholar and history teacher and someone who was wholly unrelated to the V.F.D. I suppose she wanted to start afresh and build a new life for herself, away from the V.F.D. and the guilt over what she had orchestrated.

 

During that same time Olaf and Esmé went on a rampage, starting fires everywhere, including the one to the Snicket Mansion that killed my parents. Perhaps it was their way of avenging Lemony for his involvement in Beatrice actions…”

 

During the last part, Jacques voice had become hoarse with emotion and Olivia pushed away the impulse to wrap her arms around him in comfort, sensing that he needed to unburden himself with sharing his story more.

 

“Olaf and Esmé managed to place the blame for every fire they’d started on Lemony and it wasn’t long before their was a bounty on his head with of astronomical portions. Still, he did manage to stay out of the hands of the authorities, even though it meant that I hardly saw him in the years that passed.

 

During the few times that I did manage to meet him briefly in those fifteen years, I realized more and more that we were growing further apart with each year that passed. And as much as I tried not to feel that way, I did resent him for his choices and its consequences.

 

The V.F.D. as I’d known it in my youth was in shambles, many volunteers turning their backs on its principles. Only a handful of loyalist remained in a world were fires erupted constantly. And to some extend I did blame Lemony and Beatrice for that.

 

What also drove me up against the wall was the fact that Lemony remained thoroughly devoted to Beatrice, even though she had rejected him and married someone else. And even fifteen years later, when she had three children and a house in the city with this other man, Lemony was still as much in love with her as ever.

 

The last time I saw him was a little over thirteen months ago and that meeting ended in a massive row. I confronted him with all the things I’d bottled up for over a decade and it was the ugliest, most destructive fight of my life.

 

Then, two weeks later the Baudelaire Mansion burned to the ground, killing both Bertrand and Beatrice and there is not a single doubt in my mind that Olaf was behind that arson. About a week after that Kit and I received a goodbye letter from Lemony, suggesting that he had taken his life because he couldn’t live in a world without Beatrice in it.

 

My brother was dead and the last thing I had told him was that I despised him and that I blamed him for the death of our parents and the deterioration of the V.F.D.”

 

As his voice cracked with remorse and emotion, Olivia watched him ball his hands into tight fists, more tears rolling down her cheeks.   
With shaking fingers she put her hand over his clenched fist, wishing she could do more to comfort him.

 

Jacques gave her a wan smile, his eyes red-rimmed. Opening his hand underneath hers, he turned his palm upwards, holding her hand for a few moments. Then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his eyes.

 

“We never found his body, but at the time I was convinced that he was gone, since all the circumstances surrounding his death added up.

 

As far as Olaf was concerned, after laying low for almost a decade, the fire to the Baudelaire mansion heralded a new series of delinquent events. Soon it became apparent that he was after both the Baudelaire children and their fortune. Getting his hands on their money and making them as miserable as possible in the process would have made his revenge complete.

 

The old, loyal gang of the V.F.D. rallied, determined to protect Violet, Klaus and Sunny. But after years of schism and internal conflict we were and still are not as efficient as we’d used to be, so Olaf managed to get his hands on the children on numerous occasions.

 

And because his body hadn’t been retrieved, more and more doubts started to emerge about Lemony’s death. Eventually the Quagmires went on a mission to figure out what had truly happen, but before they could report back they too were killed in a fire, leaving two sets of orphans for us to look after.”

 

After he finally concluded his tale, they were silent for a long time, Olivia slowly progressing everything he had told her.

 

“You know,” she said at last. “The first time I met you, I was immediately convinced that you were a noble man. Turns out I was more right about that than I could ever know.”

 

At her words, his face broke into a grin, the first genuine smile in days. It was the smile that lit up his eyes and made the lines around his eyes crinkle. The smile that caused her insides to melt.

 

“Do you think Lemony is still alive?” she asked quietly and he nodded, slowly stretching his muscles. Most of the tension seemed to have left him and if anything she was grateful for that.

 

“I do,” he answered. “I don’t have any proof, but I know it in my bones. He is my brother… I would know it if he was gone.” 

Smiling softly he added, “who knows… I might get the chance to make things right between us.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” she said, utterly convinced. “If he is the one who put flowers on Beatrice’ grave, then he might even be close… I’ll start making inquiries at the bookstore tomorrow… subtly of course.”

 

“You would do that?” he asked, slightly surprised.

 

“Of course!” Olivia replied emphatically. “Jacques, a few days ago you told me that I could always call you when something was the matter, but the same sentiment applies to you as well… You’ve been carrying so much for so long, all by yourself… But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here and so are the children…If there’s anything I can do to help you, you only need to ask…”

 

Sucking in her breath, she hoped she hadn’t revealed too much with her little speech. He was looking at her with the oddest expression on his face, something indefinable that was both sad and tender.

 

“We’ll find your brother,” she assured him once more. “And then you can mend your bridges.”

 

“I would like that,” he replied quietly. “It’s hard when there’s so much you want to say to a person, but you’ve missed your chance to do so.”

 

He was staring into her eyes as he spoke the words, that same, strange expression still on her face and Olivia could feel her skin prickle.

 

“He’ll give you a new chance, you’ll see…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

He held her gaze, smiling at her for a few moments longer, before he shook himself out of the odd mood he was in.

 

“Thank you for listening to me,” he said earnestly. “I must say that it feels good to finally get this of my chest. And I owe you an apology as well…”

 

“What on earth for?” she blinked at him, taken aback by his words. 

 

He gave her a contrite look. “I’ve been an absolute bear these past few days, especially to you.”

 

“You were not,” she was quick to reassure him, waving away his apology. “You had a lot on your plate, it was perfectly understandable.”

 

“No…” he caught her hand, making her look at him, his face dead serious. “I was frustrated and I took it out on you… and that’s unforgivable. You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry, Olivia.”

 

The way he said her name caused a shiver to run down her spine and he looked so full of remorse that her heart clenched.

 

He was so hard on himself and held himself to such impossible standards. He took on so much and she wished she could be the one who could make him forget about all of his responsibilities. She wished she could just take his hand and lead him upstairs,pulling him into her bed where she could kiss him and love him until all those worries away and held him close as he slept.

 

“Very few things in life are truly unforgivable,” she told him softly, risking to reach out and squeeze his hand again. “And I already forgave you.”

 

He returned her smile, his fingers clenching around hers briefly before he let go. His face was wary with exhaustion and in the living room she heard the clock chime one.

 

“Are you on duty tomorrow?” she asked, worry for his wellbeing gnawing at her.

 

He nodded. “I don’t start until ten o’clock though, so I can have a bit of lie in tomorrow. I should be off around seven… after that I have Friday and the weekend off.”

 

“Good!” she said approvingly. “You need some down-time. How about we have a bit of a Halloween movie night on Friday night? We can make the kids popcorn and let them choose movies?”

 

His face lit up at her suggestion, a bit of spark returning to his eyes. “That sounds like a solid plan. Although don’t let Sunny pick the movie… none of us will be able to sleep for weeks if she does.”

 

Laughing softly together, they extinguished the kitchen lights and cleared away their tea mugs before making their way upstairs, Olivia feeling like she was floating, despite the late hour and her own tiredness.

Their long conversation and his openness had gone a long way to mending the connection between them thad become so frayed in the last week.

 

They were friends and partners again and as long as they had that, Olivia felt she could take on the world.

 

* * *

Her relief and happiness lasted all through the next day. Eager to get home and spend the evening with her loved ones, the day dragged on until it was finally five o’ clock and she could lock up. 

When she entered the kitchen with Sunny on her arm, she found Klaus and Violet already seated at the table, pouring over their homework. As soon as she stepped in it became obvious that she had interrupted their conversation, because they both stilled immediately, both of their faces wearing the same, troubled expression.

 

“What’s the matter?” she asked, instantly worried.

 

The two children shared a look and she could see the unspoken conversation pass between them. Then Klaus reached out to take Sunny from her arms, the three siblings huddling together as if they were steeling themselves for whatever it was they were fearing.

 

“Violet?” she prompted, giving the eldest Baudelaire an anxious look.

 

Violet took a deep a breath and then looked her straight in the eye, her gaze already demanding answers before she’d even spoken one word.

 

“Are you and Jacques going to split up?”

 

_“What?”_ In retrospect it was fortunate Klaus was holding his little sister, because Olivia felt certain she would have dropped her otherwise. “Why on earth would you think that?”

 

“You’ve been acting strange around each other all week,” Klaus pointed out, his voice slightly accusingly. “You barely even talk to each other… I - we…” he glanced to his eldest sister once more, “we thought that you were fighting over something…”

 

“Oh sweethearts…” Tasting relief and remorse in equal measure, Olivia blinked against the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

 

“No, we are absolutely, most definitely _not_ going to divorce,” If anything else the children should feel perfectly certain about that.

 

The children looked marginally better at her words, but Klaus’s next question was still laced with doubt.   
“Then why have things been so strained?”

 

Sighing deeply, Olivia ran her hand through her fringe. “There’s been a lot going on,” she confessed quietly. “Jacques is under a ton of pressure, and I’ll admit, I severely underestimated just how much and how badly it was weighing on him.”

 

“What sort of pressure?” Violet asked, her expression shifting from wariness to worry. “Is it something we did?”

 

“No!” Again Olivia felt she needed to be crystal clear in that respect. “You three make him happier than anything else… It’s just that he’s very worried about Quigley Quagmire… and it’s frustrating him that he hadn’t been able to locate him yet.”

 

“That makes sense…” Violet nodded thoughtfully, understanding dawning.

 

“Is that everything?” Klaus asked, still a little reserved and Olivia contemplated her answer for a moment. Telling the children about Lemony felt like breaking his confidence and she wasn’t sure how to relate to the children their mother’s involvement in the whole situation.

 

“It’s not all… but the rest is something Jacques should tell you himself, if he chooses to do so.” she replied eventually. She held out her hands as the children were about to protest. “I know… I know… you don’t like secrets and evasive answers, but this really isn’t my story to tell.”

 

They both nodded reluctantly and their still troubled expressions tugged at Olivia’s heart. When she became their guardian, she had sworn to herself that she would do anything in her power to ensure that the children would aways feel secure.   
This week she had definitely dropped the ball at that. The tension between herself and Jacques wasn’t just affecting them, it was hurting their children.

 

At some point, she realized, she needed to tell Jacques about this and she didn’t have the first clue how to start a conversation like that.

But for now her family just needed each other. Jacques would be home in a little over an hour and a plan was beginning to take shape in her mind.

 

“How about I go out and pick up Chinese take out?” she suggested. “You two can set the table and when Jacques comes home we’ll have a nice, long dinner together?”

 

At her words the first, genuine smiles broke through on the faces of the eldest Baudelaires.

 

“That sounds lovely,” Violet agreed.

 

Flashing them a relieved smile, Olivia shrugged back into her coat and grabbed her purse. “All right then, I’ll head over to the ‘Voluminous Fire Dragon’ and I’l see you in about forty-five minutes.”

 

* * *

It had started to drizzle since she got home and as Olivia made her way over the wet, glinstering pavement, in the dark of the evening, huddled on her umbrella, her thoughts kept revolving around her family. 

The children still had questions and she had no idea how they would react to learning what their mother’s involvement in the feud between Esmé Squalor, Count Olaf and Lemony had been. Ideally she would like to talk to Jacques about this before talking to the children, but Jacques himself needed a bit of peace and quiet after the harrowing week he’d had. Tonight definitely wouldn’t be the right time for such a grueling conversation.

 

Right now he deserved a bit of pampering and she was resolved to make sure he got his much needed rest.

 

As she was walking in the direction of the Chinese Restaurant, she was so occupied by her thoughts and worries that she never noticed the figures moving quietly in the shadows, cast by the houses and trees she was passing.

 

It wasn’t until a figure flashed across the street right in front of her that she froze with a start. Swirling around she tried to see where that person had gone, peering into the darkness ahead of her.

 

Then something hard and solid collided with the back of her head. It took her so much by surprise that the pain barely registered and a split second later the street started to swarm in front of her.

 

There was a roaring sound in her ears and after that nothing but blessed blackness and oblivion.


	11. Chapter11

**Chapter 11**

 

By the time he’d finished his last ride of the day, rain was pouring down in buckets as he hurried the taxi along the deserted streets, his entire being focussed on getting home as soon as possible.

So far it had been one hell of a week and right now he needed his wife and his kids.

 

After their long conversation last night, Jacques had gotten the best night of sleep he’d had in several days. It hadn’t been until he had finally unburdened himself of all of his worries and fears that he realized just how big of a weight he had been carrying around for the last couple of months.

 

And if it hadn’t been for Olivia he probably would have never known. Her sweet compassion and patience had been just what he needed and as he’d sat there last night, staring into her hazel eyes, shining with empathy and kindness, he’d fallen in love with her all over again.

 

She was everything he needed, everything he’d ever wanted and then all of those things he hadn’t even realized he wanted or needed until he’d met her.

 

And after the abominable way he had treated her in the past week, he didn’t deserve an ounce of her sympathy.  
Even though she had already forgiven him so unreservedly, his stomach still churned as he remembered the harsh words he’d spoken to her and the coldhearted silent treatment he’d given her.

She’d be well within her rights to be furious with him and disgusted by his behavior, but instead she had blamed herself for the strain _he’d_ put on their relationship.

Her question if it had been something she’d said or done that had made him angry or disappointed with her had cut through the pit of misery and self-pity he’d been wallowing in, like little else could have managed.

 

After she had rejected his tentative attempt to tell her of his feelings he’d been licking his wounds for days.

Knowing that she no longer loved him tore at him, all the more because he had no-one to blame for that but himself. It had been his detachment that had eventually made her give up on him and move on, just as he had been finally ready to admit his feelings for her.

 

But today, during the long hours between customers, while he sat alone in his taxi, he had realized something. Olivia might no longer be interested in a romantic relationship between them and might no longer love him, but that still told him that once upon a time she _had_. She’d had feelings for him once and she had even acknowledged that freely.

 

So perhaps with time and patience he could earn her affections back again.

 

From now on, he resolved, he would put his family and Olivia especially first. And if that meant he would become a less active volunteer, so be it.

The idea filled him with like exhilaration, like when turning over a new leaf or taking a turn when you’ve been driving on a straight road for as long as you could remember.

 

He had no idea what the new chapter had in store for him, but as long as Olivia was in it, it would be entirely worth it.

 

Their story was far from over yet.

 

* * *

When he stepped into the kitchen he was greeted by the sight of a neatly set dinner table and three children wearing anxious expressions. 

 

“What’s going on?” he asked by way of greeting, his nerves instantly on alert.

 

With a forced calmness that belied the worry in her eyes, Violet replied. “Olivia went out to get Chinese take-out, but she’s not back yet.”

 

Although his stomach rumbled at the prospect of Chinese food, his concern was immediately piqued as well.  
“What time did she leave?”

 

“She left a little before six o’clock,” Klaus replied. “It might be busy, but still… we expected her to be back by now.”

 

A glance at his watch told him that it was almost a quarter past seven. Seventy-five minutes was a lot of time to get Chinese, but the restaurant could simply be jam-packed as Klaus had mentioned. Or perhaps something had come up that had demanded her attention.

 

Although he couldn’t quite think of what.

 

Making a quick decision, he told the children: “You just wait here for a little while longer, Olivia might just be on her way home. I’m going upstairs to change, if she’s not back by the time I’m finished we’ll go look for her.

 

The children nodded, their faces tight with worry and he sprinted upstairs.

The rational part of his brain told him that he was probably getting all worked up for nothing. Most likely Olivia had ran into an acquaintance, or the restaurant was simply taking its sweet time.

 

But the rest of him was already fretting, wanting nothing more than have her safe and at home. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt was the work of moments and then he hurried downstairs, hoping with everything in him that she had just entered the kitchen, carrying plastic bags and that radiant smile that he had come to adore so much.

 

But the kitchen was still quiet, the children sitting closely together. It was now close to half past seven and no-one took an hour and a half to get take out.

A feeling of alarm started to well up inside of him, prompting him to act.

 

“Get your coats,” he told the children. “I’m going to get the taxi and we’re going to drive to the restaurant…”

 

Relieved to be finally able to do something the Baudelaires hurried away while he made his way back to the garage to drive the taxi to the street.

 

‘It is probably nothing,’ he told himself sternly as he parked the car in front of the townhouse. Rain was pelting on the roof of the taxi and streaming down the windows, creating a translucent network of tracks on the glass and the sight of it cheered him up slightly. ‘It’s pouring… she’s most likely waiting for the rain to ease up.’

 

Within seconds the children came hurrying down the steps of the house and climbed into the back of the cab.

Making an expert u-turn, he drove the taxi into the city, following the route Olivia had most likely walked towards the restaurant.

 

The weather was absolutely horrible and consequently the streets were nearly deserted. Peering anxiously out of the windows, the children all but had their noses pressed against the glass in their attempts to discover anything, while Jacques slowly drove the route from the Townhouse to the Voluminous Fire Dragon.

 

They had almost reached their destination when Klaus suddenly called out.

 

“Look! Over there, on the pavement!”

 

Something small and dark was lying in the middle of a puddle and it wasn’t until they’d gotten out of the car that Jacques realized what it was.

 

A small, black, leather purse.

 

Olivia’s.

 

For a second the panic and dread was so intense it threatened to suffocate him, then years of experience as a volunteer kicked in.

“Get into the car!’ he barked, over the sound of the wind and the downpour. “We need to get back to the house!”

 

The children were already moving before he had finished the second part of his sentence.

 

* * *

Once inside they threw their wet coats unceremoniously across the banister of the stairway. “Go to the library,” Jacques told the children quickly. “I’m going to call Kit and Jacquelyn and I’ll be with you shortly.”

 

The telephone call was an extremely brief one, Kit only needing three words before assuring him that she and Jacquelyn would be over straight away.

 

When he stepped into the library, Klaus and Sunny were pouring over the contents of Olivia’s purse, while Violet was cradling the pocket watch of the Viable Finder Device in her hands, staring intently at the display.

 

“Any movement?” he asked, peering over her shoulder.

 

Violet shook her head jerkily. ‘Nothing…” her voice was laced with anxiety. “The hands haven’t moved at all… either she hasn’t had the opportunity yet to activate the magnetic pull, or someone took the bracelet from her…”

‘Keep watching,” he instructed, shifting his gaze to Klaus and Sunny. “What did you find?”

 

“Nothing appears to be missing,” Klaus answered, laying out the contents of the the purse on the table. “Wallet, three books, keys, spyglass, spare glasses… everything is still in there.”

 

At the same time the doorbell rang and Jacques hurried downstairs to let Kit and Jacquelyn in. Within moments they were let into the library and brought up to speed with everything that had happened.

 

Jacquelyn especially was enraptured by the Viable Finder Device and stared at Violet with unconcealed admiration.  
“I don’t care what you say, Jacques Snicket. When all of this is sorted out, we’re recruiting her.”

 

He winched at her words. “Let’s find Olivia first.”

 

“I’m sorry to say it, Jacques,” Kit said, circling the table that held the contents of Olivia’s purse. “But this has all the appearance of a kidnapping scenario. They took her purse, but nothing seems to be stolen, so we can rule out robbery. The purse is still here, but Olivia herself seemed to have disappeared into thin air. The only question is: who would want to take her?”

 

“For such a new volunteer, she has acquired quite a reputation,” Jacquelyn supplied. “So that could be quite a number of people. Do you know of anything out of the ordinary happening in the last few weeks?”

 

For a moment there was silence as everyone contemplated her question.

 

“There is one thing…” Klaus started slowly, “but it might as well be nothing…”

 

“Any little detail can be of significance,” Jacques replied. “What is it?”

 

“Last week a customer came to _Luminosity,_ ” Klaus began. “She came to pick up a stack of blueprints and when Olivia asked her name she claimed to be a volunteer who was in Very Furtive Disguise… Olivia never heard of it, so we both tried to find a reference to the practice. But there wasn’t anything in ‘The History of Secret Organizations’ or any other book that we looked at.”

 

Frowning Kit looked at both Jacques and Jacquelyn. “I’ve never heard of a Very Furtive Disguise…” she said slowly. “I mean, I know we all like our disguises, but that’s only to pull the wool over other people’s eyes… not to leave our own volunteers in the dark.”

 

“It’s not a thing at all,” Jacques said without hesitation. “So whoever used that term must be from outside the V.F.D.”

 

“It does look suspicious,” Jacquelyn said slowly. “Do you think Olivia made some kind of record of the encounter?”

 

“Most definitely!” Jacques, Violet, Klaus and Sunny replied in unison.

 

“Then we better head over to the bookstore,” Jacquelyn suggested. “We might be able to find more clues there.”

 

“All right,” Jacques answered rapidly. “You, Kit and me will go to Luminosity. Children, stay inside the house and lock up once we’re gone.”

 

Three heads snapped up, disbelief and indignation written over their faces.

“We’re coming with you!” Violet announced, her mouth set in a determined line.

 

“It is too dangerous,” Jacques replied. “We have no idea who or what we’re up against and we need to keep you children safe before anything else.”

 

“Well, the world isn’t safe to begin with,” Klaus retorted hotly. “No matter where we are, danger will always manage to find us. I’m not going to sit and wait for it to pass… We’re coming with you to face it.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Jacques shot back, a note of finality in his voice. “It is far too dangerous. You need to stay put and let us deal with this.”

 

“No, we won’t!” Klaus had raised his voice considerably, his eyes blazing in anger. “I’m not a child anymore, not really anyway and neither are my siblings and we’re sick and tired of being told that the adults will handle it. They never did before… And now Olivia is gone…” His voice broke on a dry sob. “I’ve already lost my mother, I’m not going to lose her as well… There is no way you can keep us here.”

 

The boy’s outburst shook Jacques to his core. He’d honestly thought that in the past few months the children had come to trust both him and Olivia, but when push came to shove, Klaus was still as distrustful as he was six months ago.

 

“What if this is all a plot to divide us?” Violet’s voice was softer, gentler, but equally resolved. “We can’t know anything for sure, but I’m willing to bet Esmè Squalor is behind this. And she’s most likely aided by Count Olaf’s henchmen. If we stay together, we can help each other…

And I agree with Klaus… We can’t lose Olivia and I won’t sit back and do nothing while she’s in danger!”

 

The stance of the children was utterly unyielding and Jacques realized he would have one hell of a fight on his hands if he tried to force them to stay home.

Casting a fugitive look at Kit and Jacquelyn, he tried to gauge their reactions, but both of their faces remained carefully blank.

 

“The decision is up to you,” Kit said quietly, her voice betraying little emotion.

 

If Esmè truly was behind Olivia’s abduction it would be madness to involve the children in a rescue operation. But at the same time Violet had a good point. Together they were stronger. It was his responsibility to keep them safe, but at the same time everything in him was screaming to keep them as close as possible.

It would be the height of selfishness to keep them close for his own comfort when he could keep them out of harm’s way.

 

_“You’ve been carrying so much for so long, all by yourself… But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here and so are the children…If there’s anything I can do to help you, you only need to ask…”_

 

Olivia’s words, spoken not even a day before suddenly echoed in his head with a clarity as if she was standing in front of him and repeating them herself.

For months he’d tried to do everything by himself and it had brought him nothing but loneliness, heartache and the pain of losing Olivia’s love.

 

“I may be an idiot for saying this,” he said softly, his voice resigned. “But I want us to do this together.”

 

The children looked at him with wide eyes, visibly unclenching at his words. “We can come with you?” Violet asked hopefully.

 

“You can come,” he confirmed, trying to silence the treacherous little voice in the back of his mind that was telling him that he was being an irresponsible fool.

 

The silence that followed after his words lasted for a few seconds until Kit eventually broke it. “Thank goodness for that. I would have kicked your ass had you refused them.”

 

Reeling with shock he stared at his twin, who gave him a grin, shrugging a little. “The lot of you are a package deal… there’s no coming between you. So let’s go and find your wife, shall we?”

 

* * *

It was a bit of a squeeze to fit three adults and three children in the taxi, but the managed and Jacques quickly drove them to Luminosity.

There was something odd and eerie about entering a dark, deserted bookstore and Jacques was acutely aware of how normally this place was alight and alive because Olivia was there. Quickly turning on a couple of lights, they made their way to the back of the shop.

 

The heavy, leather-bound ledger was stored away neatly underneath the counter and after opening it Jacques briefly admired it’s flawless organization system. There was a table of contents,tabs in alphabetical order for every category and notes in Olivia’s immaculate, neat handwriting.

 

“If I remember correctly, Olivia said that the customer came last Friday,” Klaus told him. “It was the day of Mr. Poe’s visit.”

 

The eventful stay of the banker already felt like a lifetime ago and Jacques wondered fleetingly how it was possible that it had barely been a week ago.

 

“Krie!” Sunny cried.

 

“She means green,” Violet translated quickly. “Apparently Olivia uses green tabs for Friday.”

 

It only took a couple of seconds to find the correct date, Olivia’s impeccable system ensuring that everything was where it was suppose to be.

 

“Here it is,” Jacques said slowly, tapping on one of the entries. “A Miss Lorés Masque took out blueprints of the City Public Swimming Pool, City Hall, the mortuary and the yoga studio. None of which have been returned yet and their due date is on 29th of November.”

 

“What did you say that lady’s name was?” Klaus asked tersely and Jacques looked down at the ledger. “Lorés Masque. L-o-r-é-s M-a-s-q-ue.”

 

Klaus grabbed a notepad from the counter and started to scribble furiously, the others curiously gathering around the counter.

Klaus re-arranged the letters again and again, crossing of letters he’d already used until underneath the name Lorés Masque a new name appeared:

 

_Esmé Squalor_

 

On reading the name, a fist of ice closed around Jacques’ heart, for a long moment making it impossible for him to breathe.

 

Vindictive, unscrupulous Esmé had Olivia in her clutches and he didn’t even have the first clue where to look for her.

 

“She’s either at the Swimming Pool, City Hall, the mortuary or the yoga studio,” Jacquelyn interjected, as if she’d been reading his thoughts.

 

“Those places are miles apart from each other….” Kit said dejectedly. “It’ll take all night to check all four of them and we may not have that much time.”

 

Right then Violet gasped, clutching the pocket watch tighter.  
“The arms are moving…” she said breathlessly. “Olivia must have pressed the button.”

 

Hope flaring up inside of him, Jacques immediately sprung into action. “Get into the taxi! Violet, you sit next to me and tell me where to go!”

 

Within minutes they were on their way again, Violet squished between himself and Kit on the front bench of the taxi, the girl never taking her eyes of the watch, her instructions clear and to the point.

 

“Turn left here.

 

Turn right.

 

Keep straight ahead… and turn left again.”

 

The rest of the passengers in the taxi scarcely dared to draw a deep breath, terrified of breaking her focus.

 

While he was driving, imagines of the last couple of weeks flashed rapidly through his mind.  
Olivia taking care of the children, talking with them, joking with them and comforting them. Olivia in their library, lovingly tending to the books and arranging everything to perfection. Olivia’s tender gaze as he told her all about Lemony and their history with the Baudelaires, consoling him and voicing her unwavering faith in his abilities. Olivia sleeping in his arms, her warm, soft body pressed close against his, as safe as could be.

There had been so many opportunities in which he could have told her how he felt. So many chances he could have seized. Instead he had squandered each and every single one of them and now there was a very real possibility that he was too late. He would sell his soul for one last moment, even if it was only a few seconds in which he could tell her how much he loved her.

 

Bile raising in his throat, he fought to keep the desperate panic down that threatened to overwhelm in. He needed to keep it together. He needed to find her.

 

Ten minutes later the square building of the City’s Public Pool loomed up in front of them and Jacques stifled a groan.

 

The City’s Public Pool that had been closed all month due to extensive renovations. The place was most likely a mouse trap of debris and construction pits. It would be a sheer Herculean task to get Olivia out of there.

 

He parked the taxi behind a set of dumpsters, so it wouldn’t be visible from the road and glanced at the pocket watch in Violet’s hands. The hands were pointing straight into the direction of the pool.

 

“How are we going to get in?” Klaus asked. “I hardly think Esmé left the door open for us to walk in.”

 

With a little smile Jacquelyn pulled a small key from her purse. At first glance it looked like a completely ordinary key, but closer inspection showed that the key was completely adjustable. “This will get us into practically every building,” the secretary explained. “And since the city insists on using cheap, laughable excuses for a lock on their public buildings, we should have no trouble whatsoever getting in.”

 

“Do we have everything that we need?” Jacques asked, his voice tight. As he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket to make sure his spyglass was ready to be pulled out when necessary his fingers also brushed against the small, velvet box he had purchased a few weeks earlier and his chest constricted painfully.

 

If fate was merciful on him tonight and granted Olivia back to him, he wouldn’t waste another second.

 

Kit gave a curt nod, patting the pocket where Jacques knew she kept her revolver.

 

“Let’s get in.”

 

They made their way quietly up to themain entrance of the pool, constantly checking the windows for any movement or indication that Esmé was on to them. But when Jacques headed towards the pathway leading up the pool’s main entrance, Sunny, who was being carried by Klaus made a little noise.

 

Surprised Jacques turned around to find the toddler pointing insistingly at the right side of the building.

 

“Perhaps there’s another way in?” Klaus guessed quietly and Sunny nodded furiously.

 

Jacques realized that after her frequent trips with Olivia to the pool, Sunny probably knew the building like the back of her hand.  
With a tug of his head he indicated the others to follow him and the crept around the building until they came at a narrow door at the far back that had a small, emaille sign that read: ‘Staff Only.’

 

Jacquelyn got to work with her key and within two minutes the door popped open and the six of them quietly got in.

 

They were standing in a narrow, dark hallway and Jacques quickly realized this must be where the pool’s maintenance supplies were kept. Gallons and gallons of chlorine were stacked in open hall closets, as were various hoses and sprinklers.

Turning around he addressed the others, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

“We need to stick together and find Olivia. Be as quiet as you can, if Esmé doesn’t know we’re here, we have the element of surprise on our side. And watch out for the henchmen…”

 

In the sparsely lit hallway, five pale, blueish faces nodded, their expressions tight with nerves.

 

They continued on and at the end of the hallway the came to a bigger one, with an option to go either right or left. 

“What’s the way to the pool?” Jacques breathed to Sunny and she pointed to the right. They tiptoed through the hallway, passing dressing rooms and shower units. Eventually they reached a row of stacked lockers and Jacques halted, pointing upwards.

 

The ceiling appeared to be moving, waves made out of light fitting over white plaster and when Jacques peeked around the last locker he was looking directly at a deep indoor pool, filled to the brim with water.

The tiles surrounding the pool were littered will all kinds of debris. Piles of stone and cement were blocking thew way, creating grayish clouds of dust.

 

As Jacques was taking inventory of his surroundings, his heart suddenly stopped in his chest.

 

Across the pool, behind the starting blocks, seated in a high referee chair, usually occupied by a lifeguard, sat Olivia, her hands bound tightly behind her back and her feet secured to the chair legs.

 

And in front of the chair, dressed for the occasion in skimpy white shorts and periwinkle poloshirt stood Esmé Squalor.


	12. Chapter 12

When Olivia became aware of her surroundings again, she was aching all over her body and her head was pounding.

Carefully she tried to stretch her limbs, but found herself completely restricted against any movement.

“Well, look who’s been left high and dry,” a bored voice drawled from below and after some blinking, Olivia managed to focus her gaze on the platina blonde who was leaning against the wall, fiddling with a fuse box.

 

“Esmé Squalor!” she managed, her voice sounding hoarse and scrappy.

 

“Little, annoying librarian,” Esmé acknowledged her, sauntering towards her until she came to stand right in front of her.

 

Olivia steeled her spine, forcing herself to meet the woman’s gaze with an unflinching expression. “What do you want?”

 

“Oh, I want a great many things,” Esmé replied, taking a pair of cutters from the pocket of her shorts and caressing it gently.

 

“I want to be on a yacht in the Caribbean, lounging on the sun deck with a Cosmopolitan in my hand.

I want to bask in the knowledge that everyone who has ever thwarted me has been taken care of.

 

I want Olaf with me…”

 

For an instant a look of genuine sadness crossed her face and in that moment, Olivia truly felt sorry for her. It was a dreadful thing to know that the man you love was dead. She knew that all too well.

 

“I’m sorry you miss him so much,” she answered gently. “I know that you cared for him very much.”

 

“You’re not even an ounce sorry!” Esmé snapped shrilly, her voice contorting with fury. “You played an active part in his dead!”

 

“He wanted to harm the children,” Olivia said simply. “You saw some good in Olaf and I know Jacques believed that there was some goodness left in him still… but in that moment I only saw a man who tried to feed two innocent children the lions and I acted accordingly.”

 

“Innocent, my foot!” Esmé shot back. “If they’re anything like their parents, then they don’t have an innocent hair on their body. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Yes, I do,” Olivia insisted. “Jacques told me everything.”

It had only been the previous evening, but it already felt like a lifetime away.

 

Esmé merely scoffed at her words. “I can only imagine how that little bedtime story went… Justifying how Beatrice heroically tried to get her hands on something that wasn’t even hers to begin with, never minding the collateral damage she caused in the process.”

 

“That’s not what he told me,” Olivia answered. “He told me what Beatrice did, how she tried to steal the sugar bowl and set the house on fire, a fire that killed Olaf’s parents. He recognized that she made a mistake, but it is a mistake that has cost her dearly as well, so there is absolutely no need to make the children pay for it.”

 

“You’re a fool!” Esmé spat. “This is bigger than Beatrice, bigger than Olaf even… but that’s where you come in oh so handy… you’re going to be the perfect bait.”

 

“Bait for what?” Olivia asked with trepidation.

 

* * *

_“Bait for what?”_  

 

From their secluded location behind the lockers, they could hear the conversation between the two women enfold and Jacques signaled the others to be very quiet.

 

“Well, let’s just say I went a little bit creative while I was tying you up,” Esmé started, smugness dripping from her tone. “You see, I didn’t use regular rope, but some of the electricity cables lying around here. Of course I’m not the greatest technician in the world, but I did manage to connect those cables to the fuss box… Now, here’s where it gets interesting…”

 

As quietly as possible, Jacques sneaked to the edge of the lockers and peered around them. Esmé was now standing in front of the fuse box, but indicated the roof of the pool.

 

“See those pipes at the ceiling? And see that piece of cable that’s dangling just across that one other pipe, right above the pool?”

 

Jacques looked up at the direction she pointed at and immediately felt his blood run cold. The ceiling of the pool had been opened, revealing the pipe-system above the ceiling panels. Across one of those pipes, right above the center of pool was a cable dangling. It was stilla few dozen feet above the water, but when he squinted his eyes to get a better look, he saw that the cable wasn’t randomly thrown across that pipe.

 

Apparently Esmé had fabricated some sort of construction.

 

Violet appeared next to him and wordlessly motioned for the spyglass. Jacques reached into his pocket to retrieve it and handed it to her, watching as Violet expertly adjusted the instrument before looking up.

 

She took a good, long look at the construction and Jacques could see her face turn pale. When she gave him back the spyglass, her hands were shaking.

 

“Pulley,” she mouthed without actually saying anything.

 

“Now watch what’s going to happen!” Esmé announced, with a delighted cackle. Reaching out she pulled one of the handles of the fuss box down and Jacques’ insides filled with dread as the soft sound of humming and creaking began to sound.

 

“That cable there is slowly coming down,” Esmé explained. “Now the _other_ end of that cable is wrapped very tightly around you. I might have even taped it directly to you skin. Of course when the cable hits the water it is going to create quite a bit of short-circuiting, which wil undoubtedly result in you becoming a very fried, very much electrocuted little meddler.”

 

Blind, cold fury flared up inside of him at the sight of Olivia’s terrified face and Esmé’s self-satisfied expression and for a split second he was tempted to hurl himself across the room to take Esmé out. Her next words however made him very thankful that his training did prevent him from taking such rash actions.

 

“If you try anything funny,” Esmé continued, fiddling with the cutters in her hand, “or I even think for a moment that you are trying to get away from me, I’m simply going to cut the cable myself. If however, you remain a good little girl, your husband has two hours to save your life.”

 

“And how is he supposed to do that?” Olivia asked, and Jacques admired the steadiness of her voice.

 

“I’m going to cut him a deal,” Esmé replied. “And even a very fair deal, I might add. Two of my compatriots are on their way to your home to lay out the terms: his wife for his brother. Your life for that of Lemony.”

 

Glancing behind him, Jacques saw the absolutely stunned expressions of alarm on the faces of Kit and Jacquelyn, a panic he was experiencing all too well himself.

 

_“What?”_ Olivia cried, outraged. “Jacques has no idea where Lemony even is… how is he ever going to manage that?”

 

“Well, if he wants his wife back, he needs to think of a way and quickly,” Esmé replied. “But I have every bit of faith in him. I saw with my own eyes how devoted Snicket men are to the objects of their affections. He’ll tear the world apart to keep you safe. He’ll give me anything I ask him, as long as he’ll get you back.”

 

And Jacques knew in that moment that Esmé Squalor was one hundred percent right. He had always scorned Lemony for his blind devotion to Beatrice, but in the end he wasn’t one bit different from his brother. He too would sacrifice every last one of his principles if it meant that Olivia would remain unharmed. And that knowledge absolutely terrified him.

 

And then Olivia laughed. A sad, relieved, eerie laugh that echoed across the tiled walls of the pool.

 

“Jacques doesn’t love me.”

 

She said it so calmly, so resignedly.   
“If you think you have leverage over him by keeping me hostage, I’m very sorry to disappoint you, but you don’t.   
He isn’t going to do anything rash or stupid. And he’s definitely not going to risk the life of his brother by extraditing him to you.”

 

When Olaf’s crowbar hit him square in the chest, the excruciating pain had paralyzed him for long moments, leaving him unable to breathe or even form a coherent thought.

Olivia’s words had the exact same effect on him and he could only stand there and gape as her words reverberated though his head.

 

Did she honestly not know how he felt about her? Did she truly believe that he was so indifferent towards her that he would turn his back on her?

 

“What do you mean he doesn’t love you?” Esmé shrieked. “He married you for crying out loud!”

 

“Only because Mr. Poe wouldn’t let either of us adopt the Baudelaires, unless we were wed,” Olivia explained calmly. “We both wanted to take care of the children and we wanted to do so together. We may not be romantically involved, but we are a family.”

 

One look at the children told him that they were staring at him wide-eyed, their faces filled with astonishment. Shifting his gaze upwards, he met the incredulous expressions of Kit and Jacquelyn and he shrugged helplessly.

 

A furious, frustrated wail of resentment sounded echoed through the pool and Esmé actually stamped her feet in anger. Footsteps were heard running through the corridor and Jacques braced himself, ready to come out for a desperate rescue attempt, should the occasion call for it.

 

Moments later, the hooked-handed henchman appeared, an alarmed look on his face.

 

“Boss, what’s going on?”

 

“The fat one and the bald one, have they already left for the Snicket home?” Esmé barked at him.

 

“They left ten minutes ago…” he answered, looking thoroughly confused. “Wasn’t that what you instructed?”

 

“Well, we hit a snag in the plan!” Esmé exclaimed exasperated. “Apparently, Jacques Snicket isn’t as devoted to his wife as we’ve assumed. In a mocking voice she added: “According to her, he doesn’t love her and only married her so that they could adopt the children…”

 

The hook-handed man scowled. “So he’s not going to give us Lemony in exchange for her?”

 

“It doesn’t look like it,” Esmé huffed, her eyes rolling. “And since she’s completely useless to us now, right now I am incredibly tempted to just pull that switch down and get rid of her.”

 

Stepping in front of him, Kit pulled out her gun and aimed. Jacques knew it was completely pointless. The whole reason why Kit hadn’t tried to take out Esmé with her gun earlier was the fact that from across that distance the risk of hitting Olivia instead of Esmé was simply too great. But if the latter was really going to cut the cable it might be the only chance they had.

 

“We might be able to use her to trick Snicket after all,” the hook-handed man said slowly. “He might not come to rescue this one, or trade his brother for her, but I’m willing to bet my iron vile that it’ll take him out of the house to go to the City Station or maybe even V.F.D. headquarters. When he does, the children will be unattended and up for grabs.

He may not be willing to deal for his wife, but maybe he’ll be a bit more fore-coming when his children are involved.

 

Just as Esmé started to nod thoughtfully, a gleeful expression spreading over her face, Olivia furiously pulled and kicked at her bindings.

“Don’t you dare!” she shrieked, tears running down her face. “You keep away from my children!”

 

“Yessss…” Esmé purred slowly. “The more I think about it, the more I like it… Go to the Snicket home, wait until Snicket has left and then seize the children.”

 

* * *

As soon as the hook-handed man had excited the pool area, Jacques turned towards Jacquelyn and Kit. 

 

“Go after him,” he quickly signed to Jacquelyn, using ASL.“Take him out with whatever means necessary!”

 

Jacquelyn gave him a curt nod, her face grim and formidable and disappeared.

 

“Those creepy twin sisters must be somewhere in the building,” he signed to Kit. “Find them and take them out.”

 

“Will do,” Kit signed back quickly. “And also, you’re a first-class moron, Jacques Snicket!”

 

Ignoring her last comment, Jacques watched her take off and then gestured for the children to follow him.

 

Slipping into a conjunctional shower, he closed the door behind them so that they could talk in private.

 

“We need to disarm that contraption,” he said hurriedly, “but without Esmé noticing a thing.”

 

“For that I need access to the main electricity panel,” Violet replied. “If I can shut off all of the power, Esmé won’t be able to hurt Olivia.”

 

“Maybe Sunny knows where that panel is…” Klaus interjected.

 

For a moment, Sunny scrunched up her face in concentration, then her eyes went wide open and she squealed.

 

“I think she knows,” Violet remarked, a look of relief passing over her face. “Lead the way, Sunny!”

 

To his surprise, Sunny directed them up an iron staircase towards the second floor. This part of the pool generally wasn’t open to the public, it was where the offices and supply closets were, as well as a sizable electricity panel.

 

Most of the first floor had a raised ceiling, so the second floor only consisted of a fenced hallway against the wall. They kept to the walls as closely as possible so that Esmé wouldn’t be able to detect them, but as Jacques snuck near the balustrade he was relieved to discover that he could see the proceedings below from this vantage point.

 

As carefully and quietly as she could, Violet opened the panel, but nevertheless the hinges creaked slightly, the sound deafening through the otherwise quiet room and they all held their breaths and pressed themselves against the wall, praying that Esmé would ignore the sound.

 

“Creepy old mausoleum,” they heard her mutter downstairs, but to their immense relieve, she didn’t move away from the fuse box.

 

From the pocket of her jacket, Violet pulled a a piece of dark blue, laced ribbon. For a moment she stared at the piece of fabric in her hand, smiling sadly.

“Olivia bought me this,” she mouthed, barely making a sound. “She thought it would stay in better than satin or velvet.”

 

Squaring her shoulders, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and Jacques swallowed around the lump that suddenly closed off his throat.

If anything happened to Olivia, the children would be absolutely devastated. Neither one of them had ever aspired to replace the children’s parents, but there was no denying that in the past six month Olivia’s gentle affection had gone a long way to soothe their anguish.

 

Losing Olivia would be like losing another parent. And he wondered if even children as strong andresilient as the Baudelaire siblings would be able to recover from that.

 

* * *

For the past twenty minutes or so, the muscles in her shoulders were aching from the unnatural position they were forced into. With her hands bound so tightly together and then secured to the chair she had little to no room to move around and relieve her sore joints. The steel-wired cables that Esmé had used to ty her wrists were cutting into her skin, causing her flesh to burn. 

 

Worry about Jacques and the children clawed at her chest. As much as she dreaded dying at Esmé’s hands, most of her still hoped Jacques would remain rational and ignore the henchmen’s deal, realizing his first priority should be to protect the children.

 

Moving and bending her fingers as much as the binds would allow, Olivia brushed her fingertips across the gold bracelet, her eyes welling up with tears.

If she died here tonight, she wouldn’t get to say goodbye to them.

She would never get to see how well Klaus did on his olympiad.

She would never get to see Violet graduate and be swamped with offers for apprenticeships.

She would never get to hear Sunny say her first word.

She would never get to see Jacques again, never see his soft smile and the way the lines around his eyes crinkled when he did.

 

It was all worth it of course, but she would sell her soul just to have one more moment with them. Because if she died tonight, he would forever believe that she didn’t love him and she’d take that lie to her grave.

 

By now the cable dangling in the air was a quarter down and in attempt to get her mind off its slow but irrevocably steady process she focussed her attention on the socialite who was currently filing her nails, leaning casually against the fusebox.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked quietly, forcing herself to take calm, even breaths.

 

“Oh goodie… girl talk…” Esmé sneered sarcastically. “I assume I won’t be able to stop you from asking questions unless I gag you, won’t I?”

 

“Well, since I am to die in about an hour and a half,” Olivia continued, “I feel that I might as well ask: what on earth is in that sugar bowl?”

 

Abruptly Esmé looked up, her relaxed posture turning into one of rapid attention. “What do you care about that?” she asked sharply.

 

“Honestly, I don’t care about the sugar bowl persè,” Olivia answered. “But since it’s been such a catalyst in everything that has happened, I can’t help but wondering… People have been murdered over it, life long friends have turned against each other because of it, people have even abandoned their principles… what is in that bowl that makes it worth all of that?”

 

Relaxing a little, Esmé’s smile looked rather manically. “Well you _are_ about to die… there’s no arguing with that…”

 

“It’s not like I’ll able to tell anyone,” Olivia whispered back, all of attention focussed on Esmé.

 

“That’s true,” Esmé acknowledge, baring her teeth as she continued to grin. “You’ll be death in roughly and hour… it would be like not having told you at all…

 

All right, here it goes: inside the sugar bowl… there’s nothing but emptiness.”

 

The silence that followed continued for long seconds as Olivia tried to grasp what the other woman had just told her, her mind reeling.

 

“Nothing?” She managed eventually. “There’s nothing in there? It’s just an ordinary, unused sugar bowl?”

 

Under her breath she added: “I know brevity is the soul of wit, but really…”

 

“Of course it’s not,” Esmé snapped. “The sugar bowl is a _metaphor._ Do you know what it’s like to grow up and have nothing and no one? To get to wear disgusting hand-me-downs you have to be grateful for? To be obscure and unimportant and completely ignored?”

 

“I do, as a matter of fact,” Olivia replied calmly. It was as if a light bulb had been switched on inside her head. Esmé’s boundless narcissism and her hunger to be a part of absolutely everything that was considered to be ‘in’, it all started to make perfect sense.

 

“I grew up in a boarding school,” she elaborated. “I never had anything or anyone to call my own.”

 

“Well, one day I realized I didn’t want to live like that any longer,” Esmé continued. “I knew that if I ever wanted to get away from a life of insignificance, I had to orchestrate an opportunity for myself. I decided that the sugar bowl was to be my talisman and that I was going to be someone.

 

And then the funniest thing happened… the more I believed it, the more others started to believe it as well. All of a sudden everyone in the V.F.D. was convinced that sugar bowl held some sort of power and that since I was in possession of it, that power was now mine.

 

Perhaps I started to believe it too, who knows… all I know was that I never wanted to part with it ever.

 

But then of course there was little, entitled Beatrice who thought differently.”

 

“You say the sugar bowl is a metaphor,” Olivia said slowly… wouldn’t you rather have the real thing? Someone to really care about? A real purpose? I can speak from experience when I say that the real thing is even better than you can ever imagine.”

 

“Is it mandatory for you volunteers to turn into such utter, moralistic saps?” Esmé cried out, indignantly. “What personal experience are you talking about? You still have nothing! You’re raising other peoples’ brats, children who will always wish that they were with their real parents instead of you and you’re married to a man who doesn’t love you and only stays with you out of some misplaced sense of nobility.”

 

Hearing Esmé giving voice to her darkest fears and taunting her with them momentarily left her gasping for breath, bile rising up in her throat.

Almost by compulsion her fingers stretched and rubbed over the gold of her bracelet and suddenly a picture sprang to her mind, one so clear that she could almost taste it.

 

The five of them gathered around cheese fondue, the children happy and laughing, enjoying good food and good conversation. Jacques’ soft eyes and warm smile whenever he looked at her.

 

“That isn’t true,” she said out loud, hearing the surprise in her voice. “If there was anything I could do to bring back Bertrand and Beatrice Beaudelaire, I would instantly. But life doesn’t work that way. You lose people that are dear to you… and the only way to heal and to move forward is to let other people in… to not close yourself off. I want to be that to the children. I want to be their way forward.

 

And Jacques… well, he may not love me, but he does care about me. And that’s enough for me. With them I have found a family… and that’s all I ever wanted.

 

You’ve loved Olaf. And he’s gone and that has hurt you. But you can heal and move forward as well… you just need to make that choice.”

 

There was a flicker of doubt in Esmé’s eyes and for a brief, hopeful moment Olivia dared to believe that she had managed to convince her. Then the shutters closed again and Esmé straightened her back.

 

“Oh, I made my choice years ago, and I amresolved to only pursue those things that will be beneficial to me. So spare me your lectures or I _will_ gag you!”

 

After Esmé had demonstratively turned her back on her. Olivia sank back in her seat in defeat.

 

So close. Only she couldn’t make the decision for her.

 

Sighing in frustration, she tried to stretch and move her limbs a tiny fraction, as much as the cables would let her.   
It was only then that she noticed that the cable that was securing her feet to the bars of the chair was noticeably more lose than it had been half an hour ago. Experimentally wriggling her feet revealed that she had much more room to maneuver than before. With this extra room, Olivia was able to toe of her one shoe, carefully making sure that it remained on her foot, dangling precariously from her toes.

 

If Esmé were to find out she would secure the cable again, but this way, should the opportunity arise, she would at least be able to use her feet.

 

* * *

Adjusting the settings of the spyglass’s flashlight to the lowest setting as to not alert Esmé to their antics, Jacques positioned himself behind Violet and directed the beam at the opened panel. When Violet’s breath caught in horror, he felt his own stomach sink to the bottom of his feet. 

 

The inside of the electricity panel was a mess of tangled wires, connectors and plugs, looking at least sixty years old.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Violet mouthed, her brow creased with doubt.

 

Trailing her fingertips over the various wires, she tried to figure out how they were all connected and to find the main switch to shut of the entire system.   
After a minute or two she carefully extracted two bright red, intertwined wires.

 

“These lead directly to the main energy distributor,” she explained soundlessly. “I think that if we cut these, the power will switch off…”

 

From the pocket of his trousers, Jacques pulled a Swiss army knife and handed it to her. “Do it!” he whispered with a nod.

 

Using the knife, Violet cut both wires simultaneously and a fraction of a second later the space was filled with the sound of a rattling pulley.

 

Downstairs both Esmé and Olivia shrieked and while Violet, Klaus and Sunny stood there, completely paralyzed, their eyes wide with terror and their hands clamped over their mouths, Jacques dropped to the floor and pushed himself across the floor on his stomach to the railing.

 

The cable hadn’t hit the water yet, but was hovering only a mere, terrifying few inches above the water. Jacques estimated that it couldn’t be more than half a dozen. And the pulley was still going round. It wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes before the cable would hit the water and electrocute Olivia.

Turning his head, he stole a glance at her, his stomach clenching at the sight of her pale, panic-stricken face.

 

Esmé was getting besides herself as well, frantically looking around for any intruder.

 

As quickly as he could, Jacques pulled back and scurried towards the wall while Esmé seethed.

 

“Wherever you are, whoever you are, you won’t best me!” she roared. “I’ll cut that cable myself if I have to and you won’t be able to stop me!”

 

A small, shuffling noise caught his attention and when he looked up he saw Kit pressed up against the wall of the second floor, sliding towards her, her revolver held out in front of her.

Just as she stepped forward towards the railing to take out Esmé, a calm, deep voice spoke.

 

“Let her go, Esmé… your beef is with me and I’m here now!”

 

Kit startled so violently that she almost dropped her gun and Jacques himself could barely believe his ears.

 

“Lemony Snicket!” Esmé drawled, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “How generous of you to join us.”

 

Violet, Klaus and Sunny had taken a few tentative steps forward, eyeing the scene enfolding in front of him with startled expressions of bewilderment.

 

Having somewhat recovered from her shock, Kit whispered quietly to them:

 

“That’s Lemony, he is my more dramatic brother.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 

His brother was downstairs, alive and well, calmly conversing with Esmé Squalor, but the only thing Jacques could focus on was the cable hanging only a precarious few inches above the pool. It would only take a couple of minutes at best before the cable would hit the water. And even before that, any disturbance could lead to the cable getting splattered and Olivia being electrocuted.

 

“You need to find the right wire to cut,” he told Violet, as he pulled her back towards panel, no longer bothering to keep his voice quiet.

 

A few feet away from them, Kit was shepherding Klaus and Sunny back to the wall. 

 

The eldest Baudelaire let out a horrified gasp, tears starting to trickle down her face.

“Jacques, I can’t…” she whimpered. “What if I make another mistake? I could kill Olivia…”

 

“Esmé will most definitely kill Olivia if we don’t act soon,” he shot back. “You are her only chance right now.”  
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he added: “I know that you’re scared and I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you… but no-one knows more about electricity than you…”

 

Taking a few deep breaths, Violet tried to steady herself. “I’ll need some light,” she said eventually, her voice quivering like a feather.

 

Directing the light of his spyglass to the panel, Jacques gave her an encouraging nod. “You can do this, kiddo. I have absolute faith in you!’

 

Taking a deep breath, Violet trailed her fingers across the wires once more, frowning slightly when she came across a particularly complicated knot.

 

“Of course…” she muttered quietly, “how could I have missed that before…”

 

Pulling the Swiss Army Knife from her pocket, she gave him an hesitant look. “I think I’ve figured it out…” she said softly, doubt clearly written over her face. But I’m not sure if I’m sure…”

 

It was an impossible decision. If Violet was wrong again the cable would hit the water straight away. If they waited any longer, the cable would hit the water of its own accord or Esmé would simply cut it.   
If Olivia died because of Violet’s decision, she would never forgive herself. If Olivia died because he refused to make one, he would never forgive himself either.

It was completely unfair to put a child in that position and in that moment Jacques had never hated anyone as deeply as he hated Esmé Squalor.

 

But unless he made a decision right now, Esmé Squalor would win.

 

“Cut it!” he ordered Violet. “I take full responsibility for the consequences.”

 

Hooking the tip of the knife underneath the wire, Violet squeezed her eyes close, tears leaking out of its corner as she turned the blade towards her and pulled. A moment later the building was coved in a blackness so deep that Jacques felt himself swaying on his feet, his entire sense of orientation momentarily gone.

Then a faint humming sound started and seconds later pale, white light illuminated the space.

 

“The emergency generator kicked in,” Violet whispered urgently, her face deathly pale and eerie in the bleak light. “Did the pulley stop turning?”

 

Jacques dashed towards the railing and pointed his spyglass towards the ceiling. To his immense relief the contraption had come to a halt. He gave Violet a reassuring smile and the girl sagged against the wall, shaking all over. Then he turned his gaze downwards and immediately his heart stopped.

 

Esmé was standing in front of referee chair, turned towards Lemony, the harpoon gun in her hand.

 

“You can be damn sure my beef is with you!” she said harshly, her pretty face twisted with rage. “And it’s going to end right here…”

Slowly she lifted the gun higher, aiming at Lemony’s chest.

 

Lemony flinched almost unnoticeably and Jacques felt sure that anyone who knew him less well than he did wouldn’t have picked up on this little sign of nervousness.

  
“Surely you have more to say than that,” he said, his voice completely composed. “After all that effort you’ve put in getting me here, you’re just going to murder me in cool blood and that will be that?”

 

He was trying to stall, buy himself some time, Jacques realized and from the murderous look on Esmé’s face, she realized the same thing.

 

“There’s only one thing I want…” Esmé snarled, as she wrapped her finger around the tricker and squinted her eyes.

But then, just as she was about to pull, Olivia’s feet swung forward, delivering an enormous kick to her shoulders.

 

Esmé screamed in surprise, her entire body flailing. In reflex her arms shot up, the gun flying out of her hand and into the pool and then Olivia kicked again, sending Esmé sprawling into the water after it.

 

“Untie my hands!” Olivia yelled at Lemony. “Quickly, please!”

 

Lemony moved behind her and pulled an army knife from his pocket, identical to the one Jacques was carrying. Quickly and deftly he cut through the cables and Olivia groaned in relief as she was finally able to move her limbs again.

 

Meanwhile, Esmé was still in the pool, swimming with quick, hurried strokes toward the ladder across the pool, determined to get away.

 

“Oh no, you don’t,” Kit muttered menacingly. Swiftly she moved to the stairs and hurried down.

 

Assisted by Lemony, Olivia slid off the chairs, but as soon as she was on solid ground, her legs collapsed underneath her and she hissed in pain.

“I can’t stand yet…” she said, her voice laced with annoyance. “The blood circulation has been cut off for too long.

Go after Esmé!” she urged Lemony. “Don’t let her get away!”

 

“Come on, bro!” Kit chimed in, appearing downstairs. “We need to find her.”

 

“She went in the direction of the exit,” Klaus called from upstairs. “You can still intercept her.”

 

The two Snicket siblings rushed off in the direction Klaus had pointed them and Jacques watched Olivia as she sank back against the ladder of the chair, furiously rubbing her ankles.

 

“Olivia!|” he called from the railing. “Don’t move… stay were you are! We’re coming from you.”

 

He was going to take her home, take care of her injuries and then wrap her into the warmest, softest blanket he could find before he wrapped his own arms around her to never, _ever_ let her go again.

 

Just as he was about to tell the children to follow him, two figures appeared on both sides of the fenced hallway.

 

The bald man with the long nose and the person of undetermined gender.

 

*** Meanwhile, back at the ranch ***

 

Her ankles, legs, arms and shoulders burned and prickled as if someone sticking thousands of hot needles into her flesh and Olivia slowly moved each of the limbs back and forth to get the circulation going.

 

_Jacques was here._

 

She could hardly believe he had taken such a risk to come and rescue her, but the moment she had heard him call her name, her heart had soared.

 

Not even ten minutes ago she had been sure that she was about to die, that she would never see him again, but now, for the first time since this entire nightmare had begun, she dared to believe that they would live to tell the tale.

 

He had also brought the children with him and she didn’t know whether to be grateful of furious about that.

 

Carefully she tried to stand up again, but gave up after a few futile attempts. Her feet felt like they were filled with lead, her muscles refusing to obey the commands of her brain.

 

Hearing the sound of hurried footsteps behind her, she turned around, expecting to see Jacques.

 

But to her horror it was the hooked-handed man who had appeared, running towards with a furious expression on his face. Without hesitating she grabbed two of the cables that were lying on the floor, cables that had bound her to the chair only minutes ago. Not having the time to knot the ends of the cables into a loops she simply threw the end of the first one towards the henchman with a massive flick of her sore, right wrist.

 

The movement made her cry out in pain, her wrist feeling like it was being ripped off, but to her satisfaction she saw the cable hit himwith full force, the ending wrapping itself around him, bringing him to an abrupt halt. Steeling herself against the pain, Olivia immediately hurled the second cable towards him, which twisted around his legs, causing him to lose his balance.

He fell the the floor with an almighty thud, groaning in pain and shock.

 

From upstairs came the drawling voice of the henchman of undetermined gender: “That woman should _not_ be let near a piece of rope.”

 

The implication of that voice coming from that location hit her a second later. Some of Olaf’s, or rather Esmé’s henchmen now were upstairs. And so were Jacques and the children.

 

Just as she was about to crawl towards the hook-handed villain, Jacquelyn appeared, holding out a gun in front of her.

Between the two of them it only took thirty seconds to tie him up, Jacquelyn using a assortment of complicated looking knots that Olivia resolved to learn herself on her earliest convenience. But for now she had a far more pressing concern.

 

“We need to get upstairs to help Jacques and the children,” she said hurriedly, frustrated by the way her hands kept spasming. Apparently, throwing the cables had taken the last of her strength out of them.

 

“I will go upstairs, you’ll stay here and keep an eye on this one,” Jacquelyn replied immediately.

 

“I want to help!” Olivia protested hotly.

 

“You already took out Esmé and this misfit,” Jacquelyn smirked. “Let others have some fun, will you?”

 

Knowing she would probably only be a liability if she tried to climb the stairs in her current state, Olivia nodded resignedly.

 

“Hurry, please!” she implored. “Make sure they’re safe.”

 

*** Meanwhile, back at the ranch ***

 

The two men were advancing on them slowly, coming from opposites ends of the hallway, blocking every escape route. Violet was clutching Sunny tightly against her, while Klaus stepped in front of them, his fists raised defiantly in front of them. Circling the children with his back turned towards him, Jacques weighted his options.

 

The bald man was coming in much quicker, the other one apparently distracted by something that was happening downstairs and Jacques estimated that he would be able to take him out more easily.

 

Placing his both hands on the railing of the fence and praying to the gods above that it was sturdy enough, he took a few steps back and then sprinted forwards, giving himself some leverage before he swung both of his legs up into the air, pushing himself up on the railing with his arms.

Arching his back he managed to hit the bald man square in the chest with his heavy boots and the tall man collapsed to the ground, wheezing and coughing.

 

Downstairs there was a ruckus of noise and Jacques spared a brief thought to what was befalling Olivia until he heard the henchman of undetermined gender say:

 

“That woman should _not_ be let near a piece of rope.”

 

He then launched himself forward, tackling all three of the Baudelaires to the ground and Jacques jumped on his back, hooking his elbow around the man’s neck as he started to pull, slowly but surely closing off the person’s windpipe.

 

As he flailed his hands, desperately clawing at the arm that was choking him, the children managed to crawl out from underneath him.

 

“We need something to bind him!” Violet yelled and Klaus pulled the woolen sweater he was wearing over his head.

“We can use the sleeves to bind him!” he called, his eyes flashing dangerously and Jacques nodded approvingly.

 

Tying up the large, bulky frame proved to be quite the challenge however, as the henchman of undetermined gender trashed and writhed like a massive trout, freshly pulled from the water and neither one of them was really strong enough to restrain his arms long enough to bind them with the sweater.

 

Then Klaus let out a shriek of terror and Jacques saw to his horror that the bald man had recomposed himself and was now pulling at Klaus’ ankles, trying to pull him away.

 

Faster than anyone could believe to be possible, Sunny crawled down to Klaus’ legs and sunk her four sharp teeth vehemently into the man’s hand.

 

He yowled in pain, clutching the place where Sunny had bitten him with his free hand as he staggered through his feet, his eyes blood-shot and blazing.

 

“You vicious little serpent!” he hollered, swinging his leg back, intending to kick Sunny away.

 

Quick as a flash, Violet managed to pull Sunny out of harms way and the bald man crashed his foot into the iron fence, letting out a stream of curses.

 

The situation was getting completely out of hand and Jacques was about to despair when suddenly a gunshot was heard and the bald man dropped to the ground like a stone.

Behind him Jacquelyn emerged, holding a gun in one hand and a long piece of sturdy and incredibly welcome cable in her other hand.

 

“Leave the cable, take the children away from here!” Jacques wheezed, still trying to constrain the henchman of undetermined gender.

 

Jacquelyn tossed him the cable and ushered the children towards the staircase. “This is the last one, the others are secure,” she told him quickly. “Lemony and Kit are still pursuing Esmé. I’m taking the children to Olivia!”

 

“Roger!” he replied curtly, struggling to get the cable around the henchman’s unwieldy frame. As Jacquelyn and the children hurried downstairs he finally managed to loop a part of the cable around the wrists, securing them tightly together.

 

Double checking that the cable was secure and he wouldn’t be able to get himself out of the restrained, Jacques hissed: “You’re lucky I’m not knocking you unconscious for trying to harm my children. But try one more trick and I’ll chunk you over the railing into the pool, do I make myself clear?”

 

The henchman nodded pitifully and Jacques got to his feet and dashed towards the stairs, eager to get to Olivia and the children. But just as he reached the bottom of the stairs he caught a flash of periwinkle running through the corridor.

 

Without second-guessing his decision he went into pursuit, running after her through the dark hallway. As he passed a pair of lockers he realized he’d lost sight of her and when he reached the end of the hallway, he stopped, looking around him in confusion.

 

Just a she turned around he saw her emerging from behind a locker and running away from him, her speed highly compromised by her soaked clothes. In the corner next to him was pile of inflatable pool rings, the size of car tires, stacked. Grabbing the top one, he put in on its side and hurled it after Esmé, before grabbing the next one.

 

Within seconds Esmé was pursued by eight tires that picked up speed as the rolled through the hallway. They hit her in quick succesion and by the time the fourth collided with her, she tripped and fell to the ground.

 

The tires weren’t heavy enough to cause any great harm, but there were enough of them and they were big enough to engulf her, making it impossible for her to get up quickly.

 

By the time Esmé had managed to push the last tyre off her, Jacques was already in reaching distance of her.   
Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her on her stomach, pinning her arm behind her.

 

“Look who’s coming to the rescue after all!” Esmé scoffed, her voice breathless.

 

“You harmed my wife and you’ve hurt my children,” he snarled, pulling at her arm. “Olivia almost died tonight because of you!”

 

To his own ears his fear and heartache was painfully obvious and Esmé snorted.

 

“The both of you are such idiots that I wonder how you’re able to function at all.”

 

“Not another word word,” he hissed, “or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

 

“Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” Esmé taunted. “You know you want to.”

 

And oh did he want to. With her arm pinned behind her and his knees restraining her legs he had a spare hand that he could use to choke her.   
He would be doing the world a service, ridding it of a heatless criminal. And he would avenge all the pain she had caused the children and Olivia.

 

Nevertheless, he remained immobilized.

 

“You can’t do it, can you?” Esmé asked, her tone mocking him. “That’s the problem with you Snicket men… you’re soft. When it comes down to it, you don’t have the guts.”

 

She was right in many respects, Jacques realized. In his long V.F.D. career there had been only one instance where he had to actually kill another human being and the memory of it still gave him nightmares.

He had always carried the conviction that taking a life, like starting a fire was innately wrong. When given the option he would always make the noble choice. And even now, even if it concerned Esmé Squalor, he hesitated to actually kill her.

 

_“The first time I met you, I was immediately convinced that you were a noble man.”_

 

He smiled at the memory of her words, his heart suddenly feeling light and at peace.

 

Leaning down he told Esmé in a quiet voice:

 

“Oh, I have the guts. What I lack is the depravity.”

 

“Jacques!”

 

Kit’s cry reverberated through the tiled hallway and moments later both she and Lemony dropped down on their knees beside him.

 

The Snicket siblings. Reunited at last.

 

Pulling a pair of handcuffs from the pocket of his tweed jacket, Lemony quickly secured her hands behind her back.

 

“She’s the last one,” Kit informed him. “All of the henchmen are neatly tied up and ready to be shipped of to jail for the rest of their miserable lives.”

 

“Olivia and the children?” Jacques demanded.

 

“We last saw Olivia at the pool,” Kit replied. “A few minutes ago we ran into Jacquelyn and the children and told them to hide in one of the dressing rooms until Esmé was captured.”

 

“How on earth did you get here?” Jacques then asked Lemony, the turmoil in his head slowly quieting down.

 

“Second that, I’ve been dying to ask you for the past half hour,” Kit added.

 

The youngest Snicket took a deep breath. “This afternoon I delivered Quigley Quagmire to his aunt Veronica.”

 

“You’ve found Quigley?” Jacques exclaimed, his head starting to spin again. “How? Where?”

 

“He was hiding at the home of the late Montgomery Montgomery,” Lemony explained. “I’m much obliged to all the letters you’ve left there yesterday, explaining to him about the V.F.D. because when I appeared there this morning he was willing to hear me out at last. He is in good health and naturally his siblings were thrilled to see him again.”

 

Quigley was all right. After weeks of searching for the boy and almost despairing of ever finding him, he was reunited with his brother and sister at long last.

 

“I drove straight to the Snicket Townhouse after that, because I wanted to see you,” Lemony continued. “It was eight o’clock by the time I got there and to my surprise the place was dark and deserted. Just as I was about to leave two men, and I lose this term loosely in regards to one of them, were approaching the house. I asked them if I could help them and they gave an evasive answer about how they needed to talk to you and only you. I didn’t trust their appearances, so I decided to follow them… that’s how I ended up in here.”

 

“You wanted to see me?” Jacques asked, zooming in on the one bit of information that had startled him the most.

 

Lemony gave him a sad, apprehensive look. “There’s so much that needs to be said… but I didn’t have a clue how to say it as I was driving up to your house… and I confess I still don’t.”

His usually so eloquent brother faltered, looking completely helpless.

 

Next to him Kit was holding her breath, staring at both her brothers without daring to move a muscle.

 

All of their childhood, Lemony had been the talker, Kit had been the daredevil and Jacques had been the practical one.

 

In the intervening years many fires, a lot of deception, a schism, a faked death, a marriage of convenience and some words spoken in the heath of anger had passed between them, but in the end, at heart of it things still were what they’d been before.

 

Reaching out Jacques pulled his brother in a hug, a piece of his soul that had been missing for as many years as the rift between of them had started to grow clicking back into place as Lemony hugged him back.

“Make some room you two, I want in too!” Kit muttered, her voice choked with sobs, wrapping her arms about both of her brothers while Esmé gagged with revulsion.

 

Ignoring the fashionista’s disapproval, Jacques hugged his siblings for a few moments longer before pulling back and wiping his eyes.

 

“We need to take care of Esmé and her merry men,” Kit sniffled with a rueful smile.

 

Slightly distracted, Jacques nodded, meanwhile straining his ears for a sound of Olivia and the children.

 

Kit chuckled. “But Lemony and I can take care of that… you go and find your family.”

 

Surprised,he turned to face her and Kit laughed out loud, her eyes uncharacteristically soft.

 

“It’s alright, Jacques,” she said gently. “They come first now and that’s how it should be. Go to them.”

 

Smiling his thanks, Jacques got to his feet, but before could walk away, Kit held him back for a moment longer, her voice suddenly crisp and clear.

“And if you don’t tell Olivia that you’re madly in love with her before this day is through, I swear to everything holy… I’m going to lock you up together until you do!”

 

*** Meanwhile, back at the ranch ***

 

The pool was too quiet.

 

The hook-handed man had been bound and gagged expertly by Jacquelyn and she hadn’t had a peep out of him since the other woman had rushed upstairs to assist Jacques and the children, but that was a good fifteen minutes ago now. There had been quite a bit of noise and shuffling upstairs, but she hadn’t been able to see or hear what exactly was going on.

 

Unable to move properly and being powerless to help her loved ones had left her feeling sick withworry.

 

The prickling in her limbs had finally ceased completely and although she was still feeling incredibly sore all over, Olivia was beyond relieved when she discovered she could at least stand on her own feet again. It was still shaky and uncertain, but Olivia was confident that she would at least be able stand her ground in a fight if the need should arise.

 

It had gone deathly quiet upstairs and despite the fact that Olivia had been eying the staircase like a hawk for long minutes now, no-one had descended from them so far.

 

She was just contemplating whether or not she should ascend the stairs herself to see if there was anyone who needed her assistance when she heard a hoarse shout reverberating across the pool.

 

“Olivia!”

 

Whirling around she saw Jacques emerging from the hall way across the pool. He ran passed the starting blocks, kicking debris out of his way in his haste to get to her as quickly as possible.

 

Her relief at seeing him alive and well left her feeling light-headed and suddenly there were tears prickling behind her eyes.

 

They were going to be all right. They would all get to go home together and look after the children, making sure that they received all the comfort and care they needed after such a harrowing ordeal.

Jacques would probably be exhausted after another night of distress, but at least he would be able to rest tomorrow.

 

He was still running towards her, as if he couldn’t get to her fast enough, his expression fraud with anxiety.

 

Olivia froze, her stomach clenching with worry again as she tried to make sense of his behavior. Were they still in danger? Had something happened to the children?

 

When he came to a halt in front of her, she opened her mouth to ask him, but before she could get the first syllable out he launched himself forward towards her, his arms coming up around her, pulling her tightly against his chest, almost lifting her off the ground as he cradledher against him.

One of his hands was feverishly running over her back as if he was trying to verify that she was really there, while his other hand was cradling her head and stroking her hair, tucking her head underneath his chin.

 

He was holding her so tightly that she was barely able to breathe, but with her face pressed against his chest, his whole body wrapping itself around her and his voice breathing her name over and over again, Olivia barely noticed.

 

For long seconds she still held herself rigid, the terror of everything that had happened still drumming though her veins, but then his fingers softly caressed the sensitive skin on the back of her neck and she all but melted against him, her whole body going soft and limb in his arms.

 

In response he only held her tighter, keeping her upright as she snuggled deeper into his arms, her own hands coming up towards his shoulders to hold on to him tightly, needing his strength as her own was flowing out of her.

 

Above her head, he groaned and she felt his lips moving in her hair, pressing soft kisses to the crown of her head and her whole body started to tremble anew, this time in surprise.

 

“Olivia…” he whispered hoarsely against her temple, his voice shaking. “My Olivia…”

 

His words made her shiver and she pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his scent and listening to the sound of his heart racing.

She didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t know why he was holding her and touching her so lovingly, but for the moment it didn’t matter.

For now she simply reveled in the feeling of his arms around her, of being held and feeling safe and protected for the first time in hours.

She tried to draw strength from him, but she only felt the tension ebbing out of her, leaving her feeling exhausted and drained.

 

After a few minutes a warm hand cupped her face, forcing her to look up at him and when she met his gaze she gasped at the sight that met her eyes.

 

His eyes were moist and tinged with red as if he was trying his hardest not to cry. Deep lines were etched around his eyes and mouth, his skin almost grey in the harsh light of the emergency generator.

 

But the fingers that caressed her face were gentle and he tried to smile with trembling lips.

“Olivia…” he whispered reverently.

 

She closed her eyes and let his voice wash over her, warmth spreading through her as she leaned into the touch. It didn’t make any sense and it would probably only last for a few more seconds, but she was determined to enjoy it for as long as she could.

 

Eventually though a semblance of reality settled in and she blinked at him. “The children?”

 

“They’re fine… they’re safe,” he reassured with a soft smile, his arms still around her. “And we’ve caught Esmé. She will never trouble us again.”

 

“Olivia!”

 

Another set of cries echoed through the pool and Olivia peered around Jacques’ shoulder to see Violet, Klaus running towards her with Sunny hoisted up against Violet hip.

 

“Oh sweethearts…” taking a few steps she met them halfway and for the next few minutes she didn’t have enough arms to hold and hug them all, the children simply piling up on her in their attempt to get as close to her as possible.

 

Eventually she found herself with Sunny in her arms and Violet and Klaus plastered to both her sides, all four of them crying and smiling.

 

And then she felt Jacques’ solid presence behind her again, his arms sliding around her waist once more.

 

Stifling a sob she brushed the back of her fingers across Violet’s tear-streaked face before pressing a kiss to Sunny’s soft, dowdy curls.

“We’re all right now,” she told them, giving Klaus a watery smile.

 

Reaching up Sunny put her chubby little hands on both of her cheeks and looked up at her solemnly, her grey eyes wide and serious.

 

 _“O-li-vi-a,”_ she said slowly and clearly as a bell, never breaking eye-contact.

 

And with her family around her, her little one saying her name for the very first time it was a very good thing that Jacques was holding her so tightly.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they finally, *finally* sit down and actually talk...

 

A new set of approaching footsteps alerted them to the arrival of Lemony, Kit and Jacquelyn and Olivia smiled as she noticed that both women had their arms casually wrapped around each other’s waists.

Progress had apparently been made.

 

To her surprise Kit hugged her tightly once she’d reached her.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” she whispered quietly.

 

“Thank you for protecting the children,” Olivia replied softly. Then her gaze drifted to Jacquelyn for a moment before looking back at Kit, her eyebrow raised in question.

 

Kit blushed faintly and grinned. “How about I drop by for a cup of tea _really_ soon and we catch up?”

 

Nodding eagerly, Olivia grinned back, her heart swelling. “Let’s do that!”

 

It was funny really, but before marrying Jacques, she had never given much thought to having an extensive family, but now she had two sisters and a brother-in-law and she couldn’t be happier about that. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to finally, officially meet you,” Lemony told her as he shook her hand solemnly. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

 

“And I about you,” Olivia replied, tightening her fingers around his. “It’s good to see you, Lemony.”

 

“You also saved my life tonight,” he continued, “and for that I will always be in your debt.”

 

Olivia studied the man in front of her. He was taller and more grave-looking than Jacques, but there was definitely a resemblance between the two brothers.

 

They were both dark and broad-shouldered and both their eyes had that spark of determination and principle. They both had a certain way with words that indicated a thoroughly well-read mind. But Lemony’s eyes were a great deal more melancholy than Jacques’ and there was this faint air of loneliness coming from him that Olivia immediately picked up on, because she could emphasize only too well with that feeling.

 

Lemony’s separation from his siblings might have been largely self-induced, there was no denying that he had suffered greatly from it.

 

“Well, you saved all of our lives as well,” she answered, smiling warmly at him. “So let’s just agree that we look after each other.”

 

He gave her a tentative, but genuine smile at that, his eyes filling with wonder and next to her Jacques inhaled deeply, his arms tightening around her.

 

“What’s going to happen to Esmé Squalor and her henchmen?” Klaus inquired, a deep frown of concern between his eyes.

 

“A V.F.D. van is on its way,” Jacquelyn replied. “They’re going to be interrogated by a special unit of volunteers first and then they’ll be handed over to the police. We have a few volunteers working with them as well, so rest assured that neither one of them is ever going to see anything again without a set of bars in front of them.”

 

Taking a deep breath and blinking furiously, Olivia tried to fight off the sudden wave of exhaustion that was washing over her, but it was to very little avail. All the adrenaline that had kept her going in the past couple of hours had suddenly leaked out of her as if someone had pulled the plug and now she felt tired enough to fall asleep standing up.

 

Shivering in the chilly air of the unheated building, she involuntarily leaned back into Jacques’ warm, solid for behind her.

Immediately his arms tightened around her even more, drawing her closer against his chest, one hand coming up to gently rub her upper arms in an attempt to warm her up.

Giving in to the temptation she rested her head against his shoulder, wishing she could simply crawl into his embrace.

 

All of a sudden the back of her head, where she’d been knocked unconscious was throbbing and her whole body was aching again from being tied up.

The bun that she’d so carefully pinned up that morning had almost completely come undone and strands of hair were plastered against her face and neck.

 

Tucking a few strands behind her ears she winched as she noticed the raw, chaffed skin around her wrists where the cables had cut in.

Catching her hand gently in his, Jacques examined the wounds, his brow furrowing in worry.

 

“Your injuries need treatment,” he told her softly, his concerned eyes only a few inches from hers. Letting go of her hand he brushed his fingertips over her brow and she hissed in pain as he came near a cut on her forehead she hadn’t even realized was there.

 

“You’re bruised and cut all over.” He was now very softly stroking her hair, his other arm still secure around her and it took everything not to melt into him.

 

“It’s only superficial,” she replied, her stomach suddenly fluttering. It was probably the aftermath of a few very stressful hours, she told herself sternly. But to have him hold her and fuss over her admittedly did feel good.

 

He smiled somewhat sadly at her words, before suggesting: “How about we go home?”

 

_Home._ It was remarkable how her entire body could warm up from such a simple word as she felt herself begin to smile.

“That sounds wonderful!”

 

Looking up she met the slightly amused expressions of Jacquelyn and Kit and she blinked at that. Then her gaze wandered to the children.   
They were still standing close, huddled together, their faces pale and tired. The poor dears looked ready to drop off any second and suddenly Olivia was in a great hurry to get home.

 

After being unconscious for part of the evening and the whirlwind of events that had happened her sense of time was slightly askew, but she suspected it was somewhere around midnight. Tomorrow was Jacques’ day off, but as soon as they got home she would discuss with him whether or not to have Violet and Klaus absent from school the next day. They were now both completely caught up with their studies and a single day wasn’t going to do any harm. As for herself, it would probably be a long day at work after all of tonight’s excitement, but after that they could have a nice, relaxing weekend together.

 

Except there was still the issue of Esmé and her henchmen. Looking at Lemony, Jacquelyn and Kit she felt suddenly guilty for leaving them to deal with that.

 

“Shouldn’t we wait until the other volunteers have arrived?” she asked Jacques quietly.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Kit replied instead, giving her a fond, albeit slightly incredulous look. “Jacques is probably only a few seconds away from picking you up and carrying you to the cab so he can wrap you up in his most comfortable trauma blanket.”

 

From the way Jacques was scowling at his twin Olivia gauged that he thought the notion was completely ridiculous as well and she rolled her eyes.

 

Kit merely smirked. “Go home!” she told them. “We’ll clean up here.”

 

“Thank you.”

With a smile, Olivia reached for the children and the five of them headed towards the exit. With her stiff and aching limbs, walking was definitely a lot more challenging than she’d anticipated and she was immensely thankful for Jacques’ supportive arm around her.

 

She was aware of his continuing worried glances and she tried to pick up her step. Really, all she needed was a hot shower and the quicker they got home, the better.

 

“Careful…” he murmured quietly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Do you think you can reach the door? I’ll be happy to carry you otherwise.”

 

“I’m fine,” she reassured him quickly. “Actually, I think that walking is good for me now.”

 

He looked wholly unconvinced at that, keeping his arms still around her, carefully monitoring her every step.

 

When they finally made it outside, the night was pitch-dark and cold, the sky cloudy. It had stopped raining, but an icy wind made it feel like it was already freezing.

 

Olivia shivered, partly because of the cold night’s air and partly because Jacques finally released her and she missed the warmth of his arms instantly.

 

But seconds later he had shrugged out of his brown leather jacket and carefully put it around her shoulders, his scent immediately enveloping her. It was still warm from him wearing it and she couldn’t help but snuggle into it.

 

“I’m going to get the cab,” he told her and the children. “It’s parked out of view behind a dumpster, but I don’t think you should walk that far now. Wait here for me and keep and eye on each other.”

 

Jogging away he disappeared from sight and Olivia turned to the children.

“We’ll be home soon,” she comforted them. “I’m sorry about the Chinese takeout, but we’ll do a do-over quickly.”

 

Both Klaus and Sunny smiled at her words, but Violet averted her look, her still expression pinched and worry immediately tugged at Olivia’s heart. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

 

Moments later the taxi pulled up in front of them and the four of them climbed in, the children in the backseat and Olivia on the passenger seat in the front.

Slipping her arms through the sleeves of Jacques’ jacket, she pulled the woolen collar up to her cheeks and inhaled.

The taxi already smelled like home, a mix of leather, books and sandalwood and she was starting to feel drowsy again.

Looking up in the review mirror to check on the children she saw that Sunny had already fallen asleep on Klaus’ lap and that the boy was slouching on his seat, his glasses slightly askew, but smiling softly.

 

Violet however was gazing out of the window, the corners of her mouth tugged downwards and a deep frown between her eyes.

 

“Violet, are you all right?” Olivia asked quietly, straining her neck as she tried to turn and look the girl in the eye.

 

At her question, the eldest Beaudelaire startled up and gave her a quick, perfunctory smile that came nowhere near her eyes.

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, her voice sounding so strained that Olivia’s own throat winched in sympathy. 

 

Something was most definitely _not_ all right, but dredging it up now wouldn’t help matters.

 

Jacques started the engine and turned the cab, heading for the main road. Once they were well on their way and much to Olivia’s shock, he reached out once more and wrapped his fingers around her hand.

Steering the cab with one hand, he kept his eyes carefully on the road, but his thumb continued to slowly and insistently stroke the back of her hand.

 

With her heart hammering furiously and her eyes burning, Olivia tried to make sense of what was happening. He had never done anything like that before and she couldn’t make sense of why he would do it now. It made it all too easy to pretend that he _did_ have feelings for her and that he was as shaken by tonight’s events as she was.

If tonight had taught her anything, it was that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t rationalize herself our of love with Jacques Snicket. And in those terrifying moments when she’d watched that cable inch closer and closer to the pool she’d known with a blinding clarity that if she were to die in the next few moments her biggest regret would be that she’d lied to him about her feelings.

 

She’d been given a chance to set that right and as she concentrated on the warm feel of his hand clasped around her, she quietly started to work up the courage to rectify that mistake.

 

* * *

 

It was only a twenty-minute drive before they were home again once Jacques had parked the car in front of the yellow townhouse, Olivia peered through the windshield at the soft light spilling through the tall windows and the pumpkins that decorated the porch in preparation of Halloween,  feeling her heart surge. 

 

She was home again and after the events of the past night that was nothing short of a miracle. She was so preoccupied with taking in the view that she never noticed Jacques getting out of the cab and walking around it to open the door for her.   
Startled, she took the hand he held out to her and let him help her out of the car. It felt like a ridiculous indulgence, but she couldn’t deny that after sitting still for some time, her body was feeling noticeably more stiff.

 

“Are you all right?” Jacques asked as she straightened with obvious difficulty, concern written all over his face.

 

“I’m fine,” she grimaced, feeling a little foolish. “Just feeling like I’m a hundred years old.”

 

He gave a small smile at that, but his expression remained grave. Then his hands were back on her hips, guiding her gently towards the house.

“Let’s get you inside.”

 

All the while her heart was beating rapidly against her ribcage. She kept trying to tell herself that he was just looking out for her and that she shouldn’t read anything more into it, but it was hard to stick to that when he was being so gentle and so careful with her.

 

The children had already climbed the few steps up to the front door and stepped eagerly into the foyer as soon as Jacques had unlocked the door, their faces grey with exhaustion and Olivia noticed that Sunny already dozing against Klaus’ shoulder.

 

“Can any of you tuck in Sunny?” Jacques asked softly. “I want to check Olivia’s injuries.” As he spoke the words he pulled her closer against his side and Olivia blinked.

 

“It’s just a few scrapes, nothing serious!” she protested.

 

“I’ll do it,” Klaus answered promptly as he hefted Sunny a little higher. Turning towards her, he hugged her with his spare arm.

 

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said softly.

 

“I am too,” Olivia replied, tears welling up in her eyes as she hugged him back. “And I’m willing to bet the three of you were very much involved in my rescue… I want to hear everything tomorrow.”

 

Klaus smiled back at her, a twinkle of pride in his eyes. “You will.”

 

_“Olivia…”_ Sunny mumbled drowsily as she leaned in to kiss her brow and the tears that had threatened to spill all along finally started to roll down over her cheeks.

 

“I love you all so much,” Olivia whispered tearfully, releasing Klaus and Sunny. “And now that Esmé has been caught, we don’t have to worry anymore.”

 

“All of our enemies have finally been defeated,” Jacques said solemnly and Olivia leaned back against his shoulder, relief flooding through her.

 

Klaus smiled and nodded sleepily. “Well, good night…I’ll see you tomorrow…”

 

During the conversation, Violet had kept to herself, standing back a little and mostly studying the floor. As Klaus and Sunny began to head upstairs, she scurried after them, mumbling a barely audible ‘Sleep well…’ as she passed.

 

“Violet… wait!” Before she could think the better of it, Olivia reached out and caught the girls’ arm.

Violet flinched and froze, awaiting the next words with a bowed head.

 

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Olivia asked softly, trying to catch her gaze. “You’ve been this withdrawn all evening…”

 

Dimly she was aware that Klaus and Sunny were ascending the stairs, giving them some privacy, but most of her attention was focussed on Violet’s pale face and tightly clenched fists.

 

When no answer was forthcoming, she tried again. “Is anything wrong?”

 

Violet sighed deeply and opened her mouth, but it actually took her two attempts to make her voice work.

“I’m so sorry…” she managed eventually, her voice cracking on the last syllable. 

 

Whatever she had been expecting, an apology hadn’t been one of them and Olivia blinked. “What on earth are you sorry for?”

 

That question finally made Violet look up at her, her eyes wide with anguish, her lips trembling.

 

“I almost killed you!” she exploded, as her tears began to fall.

 

“What?” Olivia exclaimed and next to her she felt Jacques startle violently, his fingers digging into her hip for a moment as he grasped her tightly.

 

“I pulled the wrong cables and I almost electrocuted you!” Violet answered, “I could have killed you!”

Burying her face into her hands, she sobbed helplessly and a moment later Olivia had wrapped both of her arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Violet continued to cry and shake so violently that it almost felt like an electric current was attached to her and Olivia rocked her slowly back and forth as she stroked her hair and whispered soothing words into her hair.

 

Tears of her own continued to roll silently down over her cheeks, her heart squeezing tightly. Despite the sympathy she had managed to feel towards Esmé through the course of the evening, she would never forgive her for upsetting her child like this and as a streak of protectiveness surged through her, Olivia knew instantly just who to blame.

 

“You did nothing wrong,” she said insistently, pulling back a little so that she could look Violet in the eye. “If anything, you save my life. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have run out of time before Lemony had been able to untie me. Without you shutting off the electricity I would have electrocuted myself by kicking Esmé into that pool.

 

And it was because of her that I was in any kind of danger to begin with. _She_ abducted me. _She_ tied me to that chair and attached those cables to me. Had anything gone wrong, _she_ would have been to blame for it.

But it didn’t go wrong, because _you_ were there stop her.”

 

During her talk Violet had calmed down a bit, but her face was still a picture of misery. “But I almost messed up… when I heard that pulley rattle and I saw that cable dropping… I was so terrified…”

 

“Oh honey…” Hugging her once more, Olivia told her: “Of course you were terrified, that was a horrible thing to watch. But it wasn’t your fault. You’re a mechanic, not a psychic. Had anything happened, Esmé would have been responsible, not you.”

 

“And I would have been responsible as well,” Jacques chimed in. He had to release her as she was hugging Violet, but his hand still lingered on her lower back.

 

“I told you to cut those cables, the first and the second time… you were operating under my orders. And I felt horrible to have to ask that of you, but I also knew you were Olivia best, if not only change of surviving.”

 

“I wanted to come tonight,” Violet confessed in a small voice, wiping her cheeks. “I wanted to help and I know that I’m good at solving things… or inventing things… but tonight, for the first time I realized how badly things could have gone wrong if I make a mistake, or if I’m not able to fix something…” She was quiet for a few moments, suddenly looking pensive.

 

“This is what it’s all about, isn’t?” she asked eventually. “Being a volunteer… it’s about trying with all your might to put out fires… but sometimes trying is just not enough… sometimes the other side wins.”

 

Olivia’s heart cracked at the realization that in all likelihood tonight the last part of Violet that was still a child had disappeared into the shadows.

Now there was a woman standing in front of her. A brave, intelligent, kind young woman who, due to terrible circumstances and the hatred of a two people more than twice her age had been forced to grow up much too quickly.

This woman was brilliant in her own way, but inwardly Olivia wept for the girl she had been.

 

And from the hoarse tone of Jacques’ voice, he’d realized the exact same thing.

 

“That is why we are volunteers,” he answered gravely. “We will not always succeed, but if we stop trying… the world will succumb to flames.”

“But the most important thing tonight is that you _did_ succeed,” Olivia told her. “You saved my life and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

 

“Nor could I,” Jacques added, sounding choked.

 

Reaching out at the same time, they both got Violet into a hug that mostly seemed to consist of a lot of interwinding limbs, but when they pulled back, the girl was finally truly smiling again.

 

“Try and get some sleep, honey,” Olivia told her gently. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

 

When the eldest Baudelaire had gone up to her room, Olivia turned towards Jacques.

 

“I want to believe that we have erased all of her worries, but I don’t think that’s the case,” she said.

 

“I don’t think so either,” Jacques agreed. “There’s a man I’ve worked with in the past. His name is Jack Jackson and he is a psychiatrist. Other volunteers, myself included, have often managed to find him when a particular case or incident effected them. I think it would help Violet a great deal to talk with him… I’ll give himcall first thing tomorrow.”

 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Olivia replied, shaking her head in relief. She could have known that the V.F.D. would at one point recruit a therapist amongst their ranks, them being the self-sufficient organization that they were.

 

“But now I’m going to take care of your injuries first,” Jacques announced firmly and when she opened her mouth to dismiss them, he added: “And I don’t want to hear a word about them not being serious.”

 

He slipped his arm around her waist again and steered her towards the living room where he guided her towards the couch.

 

“I”m going to get a first aid kit. You take of your shoes, I want to look at your ankles as well,” he instructed.

 

For a mad second Olivia wanted to ask him if he was propositioning her, but she bit down the comment and bend down to untie her ankle boots.

 

Jacques returned seconds later, carrying a rather sizable first aid kit and he first knelt down in front of her to take both her feet in his hands.

“There are no noticeable wounds or injuries,” he concluded after a close inspection, running his fingertips over every inch of her feet.

 

“Do they hurt now?” he asked and Olivia tried not to be distracted by the feel of his warm handson her bare skin.

 

“Not at all,” she answered, shaking her head. “Esmé hadn’t tied them too tightly, which is why I was able to wriggle out of those binds to begin with.”

 

He smiled at that. “I’m glad, although I imagine they’ll be quite stiff and sore tomorrow.”

 

Getting up, he sat down on the couch next to her. “What happened tonight anyway? Who took you?”

 

“I was going to get Chinese takeout,” Olivia recalled. “It was raining and I was a little distracted… I was walking across Drury Lane when I noticed someone moving past me… When I turned to look who it was someone else knocked me out.”

 

“Knocked you out where?” Jacques asked alarmed, his eyes fitting over her, looking for injuries.

 

“The back of my head,” Olivia clarified.

 

“Turn around,” he prompted her and moments later she felt his fingers into her hair,sweeping gently across her scalp.

When he came across the spot where she’d been hit she hissed softly and he froze immediately. Very carefully she felt him pull her hair aside to access the damage.

 

“It’s not a wound,” he told her eventually. “But there’s quite a bit of swelling. You must have one hell of a headache.”

 

“It comes and goes,” Olivia admitted, turning around to face him again. “Right now it’s not too bad… just a bit of dull throbbing.”

 

“You could have a concussion,” Jacques said doubtfully. “Perhaps I should call you a doctor.”

 

His concern for her was heartwarming, but Olivia really didn’t feel like rushing to the ER at this time of night. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she reassured him.   
“But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll set my alarm tonight.”

 

“We’ll see about that,” he said vaguely, leaning in to turn his attention to the cut on her forehead. All of a sudden his face was only inches away from hers and Olivia felt her breath catch. He was looking at her temple instead of into her eyes, but still his nearness was overwhelming. She could see the stubble on his jaw, the intent gaze of his eyes and the turn of his mouth as he inspected the wound.

The last time he’d been this close to her had been the second before he’d kissed her, on that strange evening in the village of the fowl devotees. It felt like a lifetime ago, but having him so close now, with his scent washing over her brought it all back.

 

He drew back a little to open the first aid kit and took out a bit of antiseptic gauze that he applied to her temple.

“It’s not a deep cut,” he reassured her. “I just want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

 

She gave him a wobbly smile, unable to talk and for a long moment he gazed into her eyes. It was almost as if he was trying to decipher something and her stomach curled.

Then he blinked and discarded the gauze before looking down at her wrists. Carefully taking her hands in his he lifted them so that he could take a proper look.

“These had me worried most,” he said quietly, a frown appearing between his eyes. “They must hurt you a great deal.”

 

Out of her injuries, her wrists were most painful and Olivia nodded. At quite a few places the cables had cut so deeply into her skin that they had completely broken it, leaving deep red, bloody traces all around both of her wrists.

 

“I need to disinfect the wounds,” Jacques told her, his face apologetic. “You don’t want these to get infected, but I’m afraid they’re going to sting quite a bit.”

 

“It’s fine…” she replied, cringing as she realized how breathless her voice was sounding.

 

He applied some iodine to a cotton wool and gently dabbed it on her wrist, holding her hand in his.

 

It _did_ sting quite badly, but Olivia was too captured by the way he was touching her to really notice it. He touched her like she was made out of porcelain, as if he were afraid she would break if he handled her too roughly. 

Her hand was cradled safely into his much larger one as he worked on the injuries, his fingers gentle on her skin.

 

When he had cleaned both of her wrists, he took out some bandages and carefully dressed both of the cuts, securing the ends of the bandages with bits of band-aid.

 

All the while her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he could hear her.

 

“Not too tight?” he asked once he was finished, looking up anxiously into her eyes.

 

“It’s perfect…” she managed, her throat so dry that she was surprised she had managed to answer him at all.

 

“Olivia…” he started again, still holding both of her hands securely into his own. Suddenly the air between them was sparking with electricity and Olivia felt her stomach lurch.

 

Her musings of earlier that evening came rushing back at her. She’d been given a second chance. A chance to tell him how she really felt about him. He might not reciprocate her feelings, but at least she wouldn’t have to live with this lie hanging between them any longer.

Telling him wouldn’t change anything and she’d never pressure him for more, but if, by some extremely unfortunate twist of fate she would ever find herself in mortal peril again, she’d have peace knowing that she’d said all she had wanted to say.

 

“Jacques…” she started, searching for the words to tell him and then deciding to just plunge in. “Last week I told you that I’m no longer romantically interested in you…”

 

“Yes!” he pounded on her words, looking almost relieved that she had brought the subject up.

 

“It’s all right… I know why you said that, I know what you meant by them…”

 

“Oh…” feeling taken aback she blinked at him. He looked rather anxious and she realized with a start that he’d probably known all along that she hadn’t been telling the truth.She knew she was a terrible liar, when she was younger she’d never managed to get away with anything, as if the truth had always been written on her forehead for the world to see. Apparently, she hadn’t managed to fool Jacques either.

 

It would explain why he had been so upset with her earlier that week.

 

“I’m sorry…” she muttered, looking down at their clasped hands in order to avoid seeing the rejection in his eyes.

 

_“No_ … don’t be…” Shaking his head, he gripped her hands tighter, his face grave. “It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I caused this situation and I’m going to fix it.”

 

At his words her heart sank to her feet in trepidation. “What do you mean?”   
To her own ears her voice sounded terrified.

 

“I’ve made you feel this way, but I’m going to turn all of that around,” he answered, his face determined.   
“I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll give you all the space you need, but…”

 

He rubbed his hands over his face, looking desperate and Olivia was starting to feel close to panicking.

Fixing the situation… giving her space… it sounded like he was pulling away from her even further and the mere thought made her insides crumble.

 

“I know I can’t ‘make’ you feel anything,” Jacques continued, his eyes pleading. “But you cared for me once… loved me even perhaps? And I’m going to do everything in my power to earn that back.”

 

His words made absolutely no sense, no matter how many times she replayed them in her head and all the while she was still staring at him, mouth open, absolutely gobsmacked.

 

“Will you let me?” he asked softly. “I won’t pressure you, I swear… And if your feelings for me never come back, I’ll accept that, but I just want to try, because I want to make you happy… you deserve all the love and happiness in the world…”

 

Something inside her brain clicked at his declaration, only it didn’t make sense. Not only did he actually believe that she no longer loved him, he was also heartbroken about it.

 

It just didn’t make any sense.

 

“I lied.” The simple confession tore its way from her throat, her eyes filling with tears, while Jacques’ eyes widened in shock.

 

“I’m sorry…” she breathed miserably. “I told you I didn’t have feelings for you anymore, but it wasn’t true. I’ve been in love with you from the first moment that I’ve met you. And I’ve tried, but I don’t know how to stop loving you…”

 

There was a lot more she wanted to say, a lot more apologizing she felt like she had to do, but she never got the chance, because he bent forward and pressed his lips firmly against hers.

 

From the second his mouth covered hers, everything about their first kiss came rushing back to her. The insistent pressure of his lips against hers, the warmth of his body so close to her own and the way his mustache scrapped the sensitive skin of her upper lip.

 

And then his arms where around her and the memory of that first kiss paled in comparison to the glorious reality of being kissed by Jacques Snicket right now, in this moment. Of their own accord her arms wound themselves around his neck and when she slid her hands into his thick hair, he growled against her mouth, capturing her lower lip and sucking it into his mouth so he could lave the inside with long strokes of his tongue.

 

As her body flooded with heat, she gasped in surprise and he used that to his advantage to deepen the kiss even further.

With her head spinning, Olivia melted against him, burying her fingers deeper into his hair, that felt even softer than she’d imagined it.

 

He pulled her closer, his hands stroking her sides, the force of his kiss tipping her onto her back and she squealed as she felt herself fell back into the soft cushions of the couch with Jacques on top of her.

 

Keeping his mouth fused to hers, he leaned on his elbows as not to crush her with his much larger frame and carried on kissing her. His warm body covering hers made her feel safe in a way she’d never felt before and she stretched happily against him.

 

Eventually he pulled back a few inches, his dark eyes roaming her face.

 

“Please say it again….” he pleaded breathlessly.

 

Her mind was a jumbled mush of feelings, emotions and a lot of confusion, but after a few seconds her brain caught up.

 

“I love you, Jacques,” she repeated earnestly.

 

He kissed her again, with breath-taking tenderness this time.

 

“I love you too,” he told her then, keeping his forehead pressed to hers as if he needed every bit of physical closeness he could get.“I’ve loved you from the second you appeared in front of my cab… I couldn’t believe my luck when you agreed to marry me.”

 

Unbidden, tears started to leak from the corners of her eyes at his confession and he leaned in once more to kiss the salty trails away from both corners of her eyes.

 

“I don’t understand…” she whispered. “You told me back then that you were only marrying me so that we could adopt the children…”

 

She wanted so desperately to believe him, but after months of convincing herself that he felt only friendship for her and trying to put a lid on her own feelings for him, hearing him say that he loved her was almost too big to comprehend.

 

He sighed deeply, his expression falling. “I was afraid,” he replied eventually. “I’ve had my share of relationships in the past, but for the past decade and half I’ve been more or less married to the V.F.D. And the way I feel about you… I’ve never felt that for anyone before.

 

I used to think that I had it so much better together than Lemony… that I would never let my heart rule my good sense… but that night in the village, after we’d said our goodbyes…after our kiss…”

 

His face lit up at the memory and for the first time Olivia realized he’d treasured that memory as much as she had.

 

“Olaf appeared the second after you drove away and my mind was still so complete occupied with you that I forgot to take my percussions. I followed him blindly into that bar, never thinking about traps of accomplices… all I could think about was you and how I could follow you to the carnival as soon as possible.

 

I almost paid for that stupidity with my life, which is one thing, but I also jeopardized the safety of you and the children… both ours and the Quagmires.”

 

As his explanation expanded, pieces of the puzzle started to click into place and Olivia found that she understood him only too well. After all, hadn’t she had a similar kind of emotion only a week ago?

 

“Don’t think for a moment that I blame you,” Jacques hastened to stress, when she gazed up at him pensively. “Meeting you and falling in love with you is the best thing that ever happened to me. It was my own inability to focus that messed things up.”

 

“Why did you marry me?” Olivia asked. His explanation made perfect sense, but him marrying her, basically tying his life to hers seemed at odds with his feeling that she was interfering with his ability to make decisions.

 

“I couldn’t bear the thought of the children getting separated,” Jacques answered. His fingers were almost hypnotically caressing her brow and hair, making her stomach flutter. “And also… I wanted to be with you… I couldn’t stay away from you… I knew you would be perfect adoptive mother for the children and when that fool of a Poe told you you couldn’t be their guardian because you weren’t married something in me snapped…

 

I told myself I’d keep my head clear this time, that I wouldn’t risk your safety again. I fell back to what I knew best which was how to be a volunteer. I pushed down my feelings for you and convinced myself that it was only my own heart that I was bruising in the process…”

 

He paused, taking a shaking breath. “But I was wrong, wasn’t I?” he asked softly, his face contrite. “I’ve hurt you a great deal over the past few months. It took me a while to realize how badly I had screwed up and then I tired to tell you how I felt after Poe’s visit, but by then you had already moved on and you weren’t in love with me any longer.

 

And I know I had no one to blame for that but myself, but it still hurt.”

 

“Oh my goodness, Jacques… I _did_ love you… I _do_ love you…” she broke across him, regret about her actions almost choking her.

He’d been trying to tell her that he loved her last week and she’d cut him off and trampled all over his heart.

 

“After Poe’s visit I was just so scared… I thought I’d messed everything up. And I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you and our family should Poe decide that the children needed to be relocated. I thought things would become less complicated if I was less emotionally invested in it… and I almost ruined everything…”

 

“No you didn’t… he told her firmly. “After the way that I’ve treated you it was only natural that you would be confused… You got tangled up in the mess that I made and I am so sorry about that.”

 

They’d both made quite a mess by not talking to each other properly, she realized. They could have been in a happy, loving marriage for months, had any of the had the courage to address the elephant in the room.

 

“Do you really love me?” Like him, she needed the confirmation, needed to hear him say it once more.

 

“My Olivia,” he whispered frantically, stealing tiny kisses between each word. “I love you so much…”

 

Sighing blissfully, Olivia just contemplated that she would be quite happy to stay here, on this couch with him for the rest of her life when he pulled away from her and sat up.

 

Pushing down her disappointment, she realized it was probably better if they both went upstairs to get some sleep, especially after the strenuous evening they’d had, but before she could swing her feet down, he tucked her between the back of the couch and his own body, pulling the quilt they kept on the armrest of the couch securely over her.

 

“You need to rest,” he told her, pillowing her head on his shoulder.

 

Smiling senselessly, she snuggled into his side, wrapping her arm around his waist.

 

“You really didn’t know how much in love with you I am?” he asked, his voice low and content as he wrapped his arms around her once more. “I often felt like I was the most obvious love-struck idiot in the world.”

 

“I really didn’t know,” she answered absent-mindedly, too distracted by the feel of his warm, sturdy chest underneath her and the way his arms were cradling her.

“Before… when we were still looking for the children I thought you could be, but after that I assumed you had simply grown bored with me.”

 

Only he hadn’t. He still loved her and her heart felt ready to burst with happiness.

 

Against her, Jacques had grown very still and then a gentle hand tipped her head back and a pair of dark, remorseful eyes met hers.

 

“I really made you feel that way?” He sounded absolutely devastated and Olivia cursed her thoughtless answer.

Knowing Jacques he was going to beat himself up over this for weeks to come and in the end it didn’t even matter. They were together, they loved each other and they had their children. In the end that was all that mattered.

 

“I will never forgive myself,” he whispered.

 

“Never?” she asked, quirking her eyebrow, hoping that by calling on their old joke, his mood would lighten somewhat.

 

He smiled at her words, but a hint of sadness remained.

 

“Well, at least not for a very long time.”

 

“How about I cut you a deal instead,” she offered, determined to convince him that he wasn’t the only one blame.

 

“You forgive me for saying that I no longer had feelings for you even though that was blatantly untrue and you forgive yourself for trying to protect me and the children by keeping your feelings towards yourself, seeing that your intentions were noble.”

 

“Hmm…” he pretended to think over her offer, the lines around his eyes crinkling.

 

“I have a counter-offer,” he answered eventually. “I forgive you instantly and take a little while longer to forgive myself. In the meantime I get to plan a surprise for you.”

 

“A surprise?” she echoed, bewildered.

 

“A surprise,” he insisted. “Something to show you how much I love you. I’m sure it’ll make the process of forgiving myself go a lot quicker.”   
His expression made it clear that he was teasing now, but he was finally truly smiling and Olivia succumbed.

 

“All right,” she whispered, cuddling closer. “Deal. I can’t wait to find out what you’re planning tough.

 

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he grinned back before kissing her fiercely and that was the last thing either one of them said for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, was it worth the wait?


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story isn't over yet... or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 65000 words later and we've come at the end of this tale. I had tons of fun getting to know the characters and writing this pairing.   
> Also, I loved getting you feedback and comments every week! I'm a little behind on replying, but I treasure every single one of them.   
> Thank you so much!

The smell of coffee and scrambled eggs had lured him down, but they were nowhere near as compelling as the sight of his wife, dressed in PJ bottoms, a sweater and a pair of fluffy slippers. Quietly crossing the kitchen he came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

 

Immediately she relaxed back against him, her body intuitively knowing it was him and he bend down his head to kiss the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

 

Giving the eggs a last shake and turning the burners down, Olivia turned around in his arms, her smile radiant.

“Good morning,” she replied, wounding her arms around his neck.

 

Instantly he captured that smile with his mouth, groaning softly as she slid her hand up into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

 

“I love you too,” she breathed back, rubbing her nose against his.

 

It had been weeks since they had first declared their feelings for each other, but he would never grow tired of hearing her say it, or say those words to her.

 

“I thought you were going to sleep in this morning,” she admonished him gently, worry written clearly over her face.

The previous night he’d arrived home far past midnight after helping Larry out with a tricky situation and he was definitely feeling how few hours of sleep he’d had.   
But going back to bed wasn’t an option.

 

“The bed was too empty without you in it,” he replied, stealing another kiss.

 

Against his lips, she giggled. “You’re an impossible flirt, Jacques Snicket.”

 

“I’ll turn in for a few more hours after you and the kids are gone,” he compromised. “But now that I’m up, we might as well have breakfast together.”

 

Minutes later they were joined by the children and they all sat down at the breakfast nook to enjoy their scrambled eggs together.

 

With Esmé captured and safely behind bars it was as if a weight had been lifted off the Baudelaire children. There had been this tension that they’d been carrying with them for all those months and that had become so much ingrained with them that neither he nor Olivia had realized it had been there until it was gone.

But now, with only three weeks until Christmas, they were finally at peace.

 

As the children chatted around him, Jacques took a mediative bite of scrambled eggs and reflected on how much his life had changed since the night Olivia had been abducted.

 

In the days that had followed their ordeal, all of his concentration and focus had been on the wellbeing of his family.

Olivia, although not seriously injured, had been in a lot more discomfort than she had anticipated herself. When she woke up the following Friday she’d been barely able to move her limbs and he’d spend days drawing her hot baths, applying hot cherry pit pillows to her sore joints and very gently massaging the knots out of her strained muscles.

The children, albeit relieved, were still shaken, which resulted in the return of nightmares, especially in Violet’s case.

 

It had taken a week before everything had settled down somewhat and by that time, Jacques was ready to make the decision that he’d been contemplating in the back of his mind for months. Even though recently most of his V.F.D. related missions were already contained to assignments around the city, he’d still been away from home in all hours of the night far more than he felt comfortable with.   
And even with Quigley Quagmire now being find and reunited with his siblings, there would always be other fires, both literally and figuratively that needed his intervention as a volunteer.

 

So the solution had appeared to be a very simple one: it was time to step away for once and for all.

And all things considered, he was ready to take that step. His life was so different now from what it had been a year ago. He was once again part of a big family and to him that was more important than anything else in the world. He was tired of missing weekends and dinners with Olivia and the children, or arriving home at all hours of the night, too exhausted to function.

 

And then the most amazing thing had happened. After discussing his decision with Olivia, he had driven to the V.F.D. headquarters in Mortmain Mountains to hand in his resignation to Captain Widdershins. The Captain, not known for being the most flexible of persons, or enjoying any type of surprise had instead made him a counter-offer.

Instead of completely quitting the V.F.D., Widdershins asked him if was interested in task of rewriting ‘ _The History of Secret Organizations.’_

 

Now that most of the fire-starting side was either dead or locked up, it was time to, quite literally re-write the book on how the organization should function.

The job would involve a lot of research, a lot of pouring over ancient documents and manuscripts and a lot of cataloging for which he would need the aide of a very skilled librarian.

 

It had taken _one_ phone call to the Snicket Townhouse for him and Olivia to decide that they were more than eager to tackle this challenge together.

Apart from that he also agreed to become a mentor to new volunteers who were to be trained in the city and to his surprise he quickly discovered that once word got out that he was available in that capacity he was flocked with requests for advice and counsel, other volunteers apparently valuing his opinion and expertise a great deal.

 

At the moment he was still tying up a few lose ends, but with the start of the new year he would put away his gravity boots and wall-climbing equipment for good, while still remaining a volunteer.

 

* * *

 

Once breakfast was finished and everyone was dressed, Olivia and the children gathered their coats and bags to gear up for a day of Christmas shopping with Kit and Jacquelyn.

Ever since the night of the abduction the friendship between his wife, his sister and his now sister-in-law had grown with leaps and bounds.

He knew they had always liked and admired each other, but in the last few weeks their bond had become near unbreakable. They met up every other day for tea and Jacques never knew if they were exchanging innocent gossip or plotting world-domination.

 

He opted not to know.

 

But for today’s plans their friendship was a great help, because when Kit had suggested the shopping excursion for today, Olivia had readily agreed, not expecting any ulterior motives.

He had of course let the children in on his secret - he didn’t think Klaus would have otherwise agreed to spend his free Saturday shopping with five women - and they were every bit as excited about the plan as he was.

 

After handing Olivia the keys to the taxi and crossing his fingers behind his back as she made him promise her he go back to sleep for a couple of hours he waved them all off and remained by himself in the foyer, waiting nervously for the arrival of his compatriots.

 

Only a minute later a sizable van pulled up in front of the house and Larry’s cheerful face appeared in the window with Lemony in the passenger seat.   
“Good morning, this is Larry-your-flower-delivery-person!”

 

Hurrying outside to help them unload the van, Jacques looked at them anxiously. “Did you manage to get everything?”

 

“Every flower of the flower district,” Larry reassured him with a smile as he opened the backdoors of the van with a flourish.

 

And Jacques had to admit, Larry had outdone himself. The back of the van was packed with buckets and buckets of flowers. There was an abundance of Snowdrops and Lily of the Valley’s, Primroses and Gypsophila, but he had also managed to get his hands on roses of varies colors and even some orchids.

 

Behind the buckets were about a dozen boxes stacked and Jacques gave Lemony a hopeful look.

 

“Your wife has a magnificent obscure taste,” his brother commented, approval written all over his face. “But I did manage to get everything from the list.”

 

They spend the next hour bringing everything inside and as Larry went outside one last time to park the van, Jacques checked his watch.

“We have about four hours to put everything together…” he said, nerves coiling his stomach.

 

Lemony rolled up his sleeves. “Then we better get started.”

 

* * *

 

They barely gave themselves time for lunch, the three men working tirelessly to put everything together just as Jacques had envisioned it.

He would have never been able to pull this off just by himself, but knowing that their children, friends and family were involved actually made it all the more special.

 

It had been Klaus who had compiled an extensive list of all the books that Olivia considered to be her favorite and who had stayed in communication with Lemony as he had tried and succeeded to track each and every single one of them down.

 

Violet had invented the strings of fairy lights that he was currently putting in place, every lightbulb sparkling and twinkling brightly.

 

And it had been Sunny who had averted Olivia’s attention every time they needed to discuss something to make the surprise perfect.

 

With only half an hour to go before Olivia and the children were due home, Jacques hurried upstairs to get changed. Suddenly his shaking, nerveless fingers were useless for properly knotting his tie and it was a very good thing that Lemony was there to assist him.

 

“You know,” his brother told him as he put the tie around his own neck to knot it properly before giving it back. “It’s not like she is going to refuse you… you’ve been married for almost nine months now.”

 

“I realize that,” Jacques replied, pulling on the tie so harshly that he almost managed to choke himself.

 

“It’s not about her accepting me…” he continued once he was able to breath again. “It’s about her knowing how much she means to me… how important her happiness is to me… I want her to feel special…”

 

_“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.  
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height,”_

 

Lemony quoted, before looking at him critically. “Give me that tie again, you’ve ruined it.”

 

Grumbling Jacques pulled and plucked at the knot until it finally gave away. “Elizabeth Barrett Browning said that.”

 

“She did,” Lemony deadpanned. “She would also tell you to get a different tie because this one now is a wrinkled mess.”

 

“A black tie goes with this,” Jacques protested. 

“Don’t you have an ochre one?” Lemony asked. “It goes better with the ring anyway.”

 

“We have five minutes…” Jacques managed, breaking out in sweat as he dug though his drawer in search of the other tie.

 

“Which is enough,” Lemony answered matter-of-factly. “Just… give it to me and don’t touch it anymore once I’ve put it on.”

Within seconds the tie was properly fastened and Jacques breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Everything will be fine,” Lemony told him. “You’ve married a wonderful woman. And I should know… I knew another absolutely wonderful woman once… I recognize those qualities immediately…”

 

Overcome with sympathy, Jacques reached out and hugged his brother. Lemony would probably love Beatrice for the rest of his life. In his heart and in his mind there simply wasn’t room for anyone else. But the bitter heartbreak was gone from his eyes and had been slowly fading in the past couple of weeks.   
And it had everything to do with the wonderful woman he’d married.

 

Lemony genuinely adored Olivia as a sister and the feeling was entirely mutual. Olivia, in her own, affectionate way had taken the blanket that was their family and wrapped it firmly around his younger brother, including him pointedly in all sorts of family events.

 

Lemony was fascinated by Beatrice’s children and went out of his way to get to know them. To the children he was a source of fresh information about their parents and the lives that they’d never known about and Lemony had already spend many evenings relating everything he remembered about them.

 

There would always be a Beatrice-shaped hole in Lemony’s heart, but the rest of it was steadily filling up with the renewed affection of his expanded family and he was slowly mending because of it.

 

As Jacques steadied himself and made his way over to the library, he knew there were a million reasons to propose this afternoon.

 

* * *

 

They’d had a wonderful day strolling through the city, gazing at festively decorated store windows and getting some of their shopping done, but as she carefully drove the taxi home, Olivia realized that being surrounded by her ever-expanding family was the best gift the past year had given her.

Jacquelyn was next to her on the passenger seat, practically sitting backwards as she was discussing the use of various nifty V.F.D. gadgets with Violet, who was in the backseat, slightly squeezed in next to Klaus, Kit and Sunny.

 

To her great amusement, Klaus and Kit were really hitting it off lately and Olivia contributed that mostly to the fact that they had a very similar, rather sarcastic sense of humor. All three of the Baudelaire children had little patience with foolishness and hypocrisy, especially after they had endured both of that in abundance from various adults and guardians in the past eighteen months. Olivia often felt that Klaus was most irked by this, but had always been too polite to actually say something unless the situation _really_ called for it.   
Kit had no such scruples and managed to help him get out of his shell more and more.

 

They boy was definitely growing in confidence. He had, after endless preparations and practice sessions finally competed in the vocabulary olympiad two weeks ago, managing to bring his team to victory when he had been able to flawlessly give the definition of the word: crepuscular.

 

It truly had been a moment of victory, not just for Klaus and his team, but for their little family as well. After everything the children had endured in the year and a half that was behind them, they were still standing strong. Olivia hadn’t known that he was able to feel so much pride, but in that moment her heart had almost felt too big for her chest as he watched Klaus triumphantlylift the trophy into the air wile she, Jacques, Violet and Sunny clapped their hands red.

 

After a few difficult weeks and assisted by the guidance of Dr. Jack Jackson, Violet had decided that she really wanted to follow in her parents (both biological and adoptive) footsteps by becoming a V.F.D. volunteer. To both her and Jacques’ relief she wanted wait for another year so she could finish school, but after that she would be recruited.

And since her stunning inventing skills were already legendary within the organization, there were a great many volunteers extremely eager to become her mentor.

 

And even little Sunny had big changes ahead of her. In the new year she would start pre-school and out of all of the changes in her children’s lives, Olivia had to admit she was most nervous about that. Sunny was brilliant and resilient and she had no doubt the toddler would thrive in an environment where she could play and explore to her heart’s content, but Olivia would definitely miss having her around all the time.

 

Once Quigley had settled in with his brother, sister and aunt, the Baudelaires were quick to arrange another meeting to finally get to meet the third triplet, whom they’d heard so much of. The bonds of friendship between the Baudelaires and the Quagmires had become unbreakable with everything they had endured together and Olivia had a sneaky suspicion that in the future they would be a force to be reckoned with within the V.F.D.

 

Seeing the six children together, safe, reunited and cared for had also done wonders for Jacques’ state of mind and Olivia couldn’t help but smile as she thought of her husband.

He was her husband now in every sense of the word and the past weeks had been filled with morehappiness and tenderness than she could have ever anticipated. Jacques absolutely doted on her and Olivia, who hadn’t had anyone dote on her in her life, hadn’t been prepared for how safe and special it would make her feel.

 

Jacques Snicket had shaken her quiet, lonely, well-organized life completely upside-down, but once they had finally admitted their feelings for each other, they had embarked on the greatest adventure of all: their own lovestory. And it was everything and then so much more than she could have ever imagined.

It was waking up with a thrill of excitement every morning because they were together. It was lying in his arms, late at night, wrapped up securely in his embrace and still not wanting to go asleep because she didn’t want to miss a second of being with him.

 

It had taken her a little over thirty years, but now she had all the family and love she could wish for.

 

* * *

 

When she drove up to the townhouse she immediately noticed something was out of the ordinary. The steps towards the front door seemed to be bathing in a soft light, but no matter how much she squinted, she couldn’t quite make out what was causing it.

Around her the car had become very quiet.

 

Once she had parked the taxi in front of the house and she was able to get a better look she blinked in surprise at the glass jars filled with flowers and lights that were placed all the way up to the front door, leaving a path for someone to walk through.

 

“Right, there has been a slight change of plans,” Kit announced, her eyes dancing with excitement. “You need to hand the keys of the cab to Jacquelyn. We are going to take the kids out for pizza, a movie and an insane amount of ice-cream and you should go inside.”

 

“But how… what…?” Olivia stammered, her mind running a mile an hour. Jacques had mentioneda surprise, but what on earth could he have planned?

 

“Just go!” Kit urged. “Knowing Jacques, he’s probably ready to combust from nerves… he’s been planning this for weeks, driving everyone up the wall with his perfectionism…”

 

“You’re going to love it,” Violet added.

 

“I… all right…” With shaking hands Olivia opened the door and slipped out of the car, the cold air of the afternoon welcome on her suddenly flushed cheeks. Five faces were pressed against the window, waving and urging her on and she took a few shaky steps towards the house.

 

The softly sparkling lights amidst the flowers gave the whole scene something magical and as she slowly walked up the path she could feel her heart fluttering nervously.   
The front door was slightly ajar and once she’d pushed it open fully she gasped in shock at what she saw. The flowers and lights outside had only been a little prelude to what was waiting for her inside.

 

The entire hallway was filled with flowers of all shapes and colors. They were arranged in tall vases and small jars, interspersed with sparkling, twinkling fairy lights that were glowing softly. The air was filled with a sweet, flowery fragrance and Olivia inhaled deeply, tears already stinging her eyes.

 

The flowers were arranged in such a way that they were creating a path that she followed slowly, turning around in circles every now and then to take it all in. The path lead to the stairway which was also completely covered in flowers and lights. Ascending carefully, Olivia realized this must have taken Jacques hours and hours to put together. 

 

Halfway up the stairs she noticed that books were starting to pop up between arrangements and she gasped in delight when she recognized her very favorite titles. There was Jack London’s ‘ _To build a fire?_ ’ and several books by Samuel Beckett, an author she’d only just recently come to appreciate.

When she arrived on the second floor the path of flowers, lights and books led directly to the library and picking up her pace she hurried forward, her heart suddenly beating furiously.

 

The inside of the library looked more like a garden than an actual library and Olivia paused on the threshold, completely gobsmacked, trying her hardest to take everything in. Books were placed artfully in colorful displays of flowers and attached to the ceiling was a canopy entirely constructed out of flowers, fairy lights and books.

 

Underneath that canopy stood Jacques, wearing a dashing tuxedo and a nervous smile.

 

“Jacques!”

 

Suddenly she couldn’t get to him soon enough and she rushed forward, almost tripping in her heels.

He reached out to catch her, his arms coming securely around her and she looked up into his face, feeling light-headed and giddy.

“What’s all this then?” she asked breathlessly, grinning so hard her cheeks ached.

 

Smiling at her he bend down and brushed his lips against her, the affectionate gesture making her stomach flutter.

 

“I got to plan a surprise for you, remember?” he asked, his voice low.

 

Twisting slightly into his arms, Olivia looked around the room once more, trying to take in as much as possible.

“It looks amazing…” she said quietly. “All those flowers… and the books… they’re all new, aren’t they?”

 

Her gaze fell on a beautiful, hardcover edition of ‘ _Waiting for Gadot_ ’. She had borrowed Jacques’ copy a few weeks ago after he had told her it was his absolute favorite book and she had instantly agreed with him that it was indeed brilliant.

Reaching out, she gently stroked the spy, almost as if she were petting the book.

 

“You deserve a copy of your own,” Jacques told her, before taking a deep breath, clearly steeling himself.

 

Immediately all thoughts of books were miraculously gone from her mind and she stared at him wide-eyed, her heart beginning to hammer furiously as he took her hands in his.

 

“Olivia, the first time I saw you, running after that trolley outside of Mulctuary Money Management I knew instantly just how special you were. And of course I messed up straight away…” He gave her a rueful smile and she blinked at him in surprise.

 

“I was supposed to approach you and show you a picture of a baby,” Jacques explained. “That’s how we usually recruit adult volunteers. But instead of braking, I accidentally hit the gas pedal when I first saw you and instead I almost ran you over…”

 

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, letting go of one of his hands so she could stroke his face. “I never knew that…”

 

Laughing as well, he turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. Then his expression became more sober.  
“Yes, well… my point is, I loved you right from the start and I know you don’t want me to say it anymore, but I hate that I ever made you feel, even for a moment, that I was indifferent towards you.”

 

“Oh Jacques…” No matter how often she told him that they had both made mistakes and that they were both responsible for the crossed wires in the first months of their marriage, Jacques was still having a hard time letting go of that guilt.

 

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before in my life,” he continued, his voice turning slightly hoarse.

 

And in that moment she was done for it. The tears that had already been so close started to roll down over her cheeks, their paths interrupted by the creases of her smile.

 

“You’ve given me a home and a family again and I swear that I will treasure you always. In the past few months I have thought on a few occasions that our story was over…” his voice caught at the last word and then there were tears on his face as well.

 

“I thought it was over but…” his voice cracked again and ended on a dry sob and he shook his head and clasped her hands tighter.

“I had a bit more speech prepared,” he confessed, chuckling through his tears. “Bear with me, this might take a while…”

 

Olivia was crying openly now, her vision blurring with tears.

 

Taking another deep breath, Jacques managed to go on: “I know now that we have only just begun. And I am so happy that we get to write a new chapter every day that we are together. Of course I realize that I never actually asked you if you wanted that, so…”

 

He let go of her left hand and reached into his pocket and Olivia’s eyes went wide as she realized what he was about to do.

 

From the inside pocket of his tuxedo he pulled a square, black velvet box and as he popped it open, he sank down to the floor on one knee.

 

The ring, with its citrine gemstone on a band of gold wasabsolutely gorgeous and Olivia was instantly in love wit it.   
But more than anything else she was aware of the man kneeling in front of her, his dark eyes trained on her face, his hand firmly clapped around hers.

 

“Olivia, you’re the love of my life and I want nothing more than to make you happy. So I’m asking you, will you let me? Will you let me be your husband and will you be my wife?”

 

He was actually looking nervous, as if there was even the slightest possibility that she would ever refuse him.

 

“Yes!” She was laughing, crying and sobbing at the same time and she must look like a mess, but at her answer Jacques’ face split into the biggest, most wondrous smile she’d ever seen on him. Taking the ring out of its cushion, he very carefully slid it on her ring finger, the ring fitting as if it was made for her.

 

Then he was coming up just as she was falling into his arms and she buried her hands into his hairs as his lips hungrily sought hers.

 

He loved her. And with his arms around her and his mouth pressed against hers Olivia knew without a trace of a doubt that he would _always_ love her.

Just as she would always love him.

 

Their story was far from over yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And indeed, the story isn't quite over yet. 
> 
> I have a few outtakes and added scenes, things that I couldn't really fit into the story because it wasn't relevant to the plot, but that would be fun to share as separate one-shots. 
> 
> If anyone is interested of course.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously the first quote is from Charles Dickens 'A Christmas Carol'. 
> 
> The quote about blue-stockings is by Gwen Wright:  
> “She says it is a school for bluestockings which, according to her, is really only a fashionable way of saying it is a school for ugly girls who cannot find suitable husbands."


End file.
